


LarryBoy and the Tech Whisperer

by ItsaMePatches



Category: VeggieTales
Genre: Gen, Other, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaMePatches/pseuds/ItsaMePatches
Summary: LarryBoy is still new to this whole "superhero" business and after being ambushed by a rapscallion, he is rudely reminded of that...though, he does get to meet somebody named Alfred who helps him out with his predicament in the process. After this event, things get strange as constant power outages and hacks of crucial computers are on the rise. After being called out by the culprit himself, will LarryBoy be able to capture the fiend and bring peace to Bumblyburg before Christmas?





	1. A Day in Bumblyburg

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm just gonna try writing a single VT story" - me, a week ago
> 
> ...well, that didn't happen.

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         It wasn’t hard to tell that winter was afoot in Bumblyburg, for it was made clear by the crisp, cooling air, and how the leaves were turning brown with each passing week which went onward. Although merely one in the afternoon, the sky was grey thanks to the blanket of clouds sprawled out -- this was perfect weather for anybody who enjoyed the change of scenery and, well, cooler air. Overall, the mood of Bumblyburg and its citizens was relaxed and laid back. A step up with enjoying this weather was to recline at a cafe with a big cup of hot chocolate and whipping cream in hand. Perhaps there were souls out there doing that...

         “It’s so dark out there,” he commented with a yawn, “it makes me want to go back to sleep…”

         Junior tilted his head at him from across the table. “Larry, it’s only one…”

         “Still makes me wanna do that...sorta.” Larry took a sip of his hot chocolate once he was done talking, the whipped cream pressing up against his mouth in the process. He paused and then looked to Junior. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

         The child blinked. “We got the day off.”

         “Oh? What’s the occasion?”  
         “Thanksgiving break.”

         “Ah.” _Sip_.

         “Say Larry,” Junior asked, “you wanna come over to our house for Thanksgiving?”

         He quirked a brow. “Your parents are okay with that?”

         “Of course! You’ve been a part of our family for years!”  
         “Well, I guess I could.”

         “Cool! I’ll let them know when I get home.” Junior was about to begin drinking away at his hot chocolate as well when, suddenly, something caught his attention out the window. With the cup inches away from his mouth, his eyes followed a figure dashing out of a store. “What the…?”

         Larry turned his head to see what his little buddy was watching and immediately saw the store owner run out, shouting incoherently. Only words he could make out were “get back here, theif”. One half of his mouth made a straight line.

         “Whoa,” Junior said, “poor guy--”

         “Be right back Junior.”

         He turned his attention back to Larry just in time to see him rise from his seat. “Where are you going--?”

         Larry beamed a small smile, replying, “Bathroom.” He motioned his head to his empty cup while shaking it upside down. “Gonna get another hot chocolate too...maybe a gingerbread man on the side.”

         The asparagus kid blinked. “Uh--”

         And off Larry went, straight to the bathroom.

         “...okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Huffing and puffing and a tad dizzy from running with all of that lot, the short scallion fell back against the brick wall behind him while making certain he wouldn’t be seen in the alleyway. For a few more seconds, he huffed, though much quiet and slower as he moved the sack from his side to the front of him, a smile crept to his face. Never would he have thought he would’ve been capable of snatching some fresh jewelries like his comrades, but here he was!

         Is it strange that he felt his mouth was watering upon opening the bag and just _seeing_ the shimmering pieces stare back at him?

         ...yeah, it was.

         Perhaps it was because of how much money this heavy-as-heck bag of shining minerals might have cost. Yeah, that was it.

         He sighed in relief, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Thought I would’ve been caught by that old buzzard. Guess not…” He opened his eyes. “They’re gonna be _so_ jealous of me when I come back with this...!”

         He looked behind the garbage dumpster he stood beside in order to retrieve the duffle bag he had hiding. Sure, this was the first time he stole a load in this amount, but he darn well knew he needed to hide the goods as well as possible, so...into the gym bag it went. Off went the flimsy mask he wore around the eyes and black sweater -- both of them accompanying the jewelry.

         Once he was satisfied with how he hid his dirty deed from sight, the scallion lifted the bag with a grunt and began to exit the alleyway. It had been long enough, so he didn’t expect anybody to still be searching for him. He puffed proudly with a smile. Nailed it.

         “ _So_...what’cha got there?”

         ...on second thought, he did _not_ nail it.

         He sucked in a breath before spinning around to face the one who spoke to him just now.

         “Oh, uh...this?” He lifted the duffle bag with a half-smile, obviously trying to not show how nervous he was getting. “Just my gym clothes. I got too sweaty to wait until I got home to change out of them, s--so I...changed down here.”

         “ _Very likely story_ ,” was the sarcastic reply he got.

         Now that he thought about it, that was a flawed excuse.

         Instead of attempting to give a much better story, he blurted out, “I’m not going back to jail!” He turned and began to run away from the costumed vigilante.

         He could’ve sworn he heard an annoyed sigh, he wasn’t certain. What he was certain about was catching the sound of an oh-so-familiar click, followed by a whizz.

         Oh no. No no no no no no no--

         “AAGH!” He cried upon being caught mid-run by something from behind. It, attached to his back, started to yank and drag him back into the alleyway. “Aw come on, no fair! This was gonna be my big break from the others! Show some compassion, will ya!?”

         “No can do, you stole something.”  
         “Ugh…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Meanwhile, Junior, from his seat, watched on as the Scottish officer forced the peeved thief into the back of his car whilst the jewelry store owner was excitedly speaking to _the_ LarryBoy who caught the thief in the first place. Wow, he really _was_ everywhere, wasn’t he.

         He took another gulp of hot chocolate as the hero, using one of the devices on the side of his head, launched himself to a building out of view. “He’s so cool…”

          **_BANG._ ** “Oof! Aagh!”

          **_DOOF_ **.

         Junior’s eyebrows quirked in question upon hearing strange sounds coming from the men’s restroom. Others within the cafe were also glancing over to the public bathroom, wondering what the heck that noise was about. What kind of sound effect was “doof” anyway?

         Junior shrugged. Oh well. Maybe somebody slipped in the bathroom? Hope they were okay…

         He went back to the last of his warm drink just as he heard someone approaching the table, panting. His eyes looked, and there was Larry with a sheepish grin. “There you are! You were gone for a long time…”

         “Sorry it took so long. There was a line in there.”  
         “That’s okay. You missed LarryBoy though.”  
         “LarryBoy? He was here?”

         “Yeah!” Junior eagerly nodded in response. “He was swinging by, caught the bad guy somewhere down the street, and then he brought him back with the stuff he took!”

         He frowned. “Whoa, I _did_ miss a lot. Too bad I missed it, huh?”

         “Don’t worry,” he assured him, “there’s always next time. He’s been having to pop out a lot more lately since it’s near the holiday season ‘n’ all.”

         Larry’s mind instantly echoed, ‘ _Don’t I know it_.’ He was about to plop himself back into his seat, but remembered that he was supposed to be getting another hot coco and perhaps a gingerbread man to accompany it. “Oh shoot, my drink. Completely forgot about it--”

         “I’ll get it.” Junior arose from his seat. “I was going to get another too. Be right back!”

         “ ‘K! Thanks buddy.”

         Larry made himself sit down, sighing in relief. Why did he have to crash into the bathroom floor like that while he tried slipping himself through that darn window? How clumsy! He wasn’t supposed to be clumsy _in uniform_! He would kick himself later, but then he realized that -- at least -- this didn’t happen while he tried going after somebody. Because of that upside to that moment, he relaxed, smiling. When his eyes trailed towards the store across the street, what the place’s owner had given him came to mind. From his sweater pocket, he pulled it out.

         Gosh, what a nice red gemstone…

         “What’d he say it was called again?” He tilted his one head, holding the shining piece up to one of the fluorescent lights above. “Wasn’t it something like ‘beryl’?” Larry pulled it back to himself and then carefully placed the stone in his warm pocket. “Pretty nice of the guy to do that.”

         “What guy?” Junior approached the table, holding two drinks.

         Shoot. His eyes darted back and forth from Junior and to the window. Hurry! Think of an answer!

         “...Santa Claus.”

         Good one.

         Junior blinked, brows scrunching together. “But it’s nowhere near Christmas--”

         “Ooh, look at the time! I forgot that they’re playing an ‘ _Alf_ ’ marathon for Thanksgiving, so I should _really_ get going now, Junior-How much do I owe ya for the drink-Here y’ go-Thanks again-Let’s catch up tomorrow at the park-they have those hayrides going on- _Bye!_ ”

         Within a few seconds, Larry had carefully take his drink from Junior’s grasp, say all of that without taking a breath, and dashed out of the cafe.

         “Oookay? That was an overreaction...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         One trip via bus thirty minutes later…

         “Honey,” Larry called out upon opening the door to his mansion, flipping on the switch to his right on the wall, “I’m home!” He paused. “Oh right, I’m not married. I’m the only one who lives here too.”

         He got himself cleaned up with the help of a nice, hot shower to relax his body and then bounded to the living room in order to turn his old television on. “Alf” was playing, just like he had told Junior earlier. As the start of a new episode began, he went to the kitchen to whip up something nice for a late lunch.

         Now, one of the things he was not was a cook, not even one who could put something in the microwave without half of the food still being frozen no matter how long he left the darn thing in there. With that thought in Larry’s head while he dug through his refrigerator, he wondered if he should just order himself a large pizza. It could be lunch _and_ dinner…

         ...then again, there was also the fear that the pizza delivery person might eat it by the time they reached his house. It happened once, it could happen again.

         “Hmm…”

         ...well, there was always the Chinese delivery place a bit away?

 

         So here he was, someone who could easily order rather expensive foods without worry, chowing down on boxes and boxes of noodles, teriyaki chicken, beef, and pork while plopped on the couch and watching 80s sitcoms. This would’ve been hard for the citizens of Bumblyburg to take in, knowing that this is what their town hero did on his off days...but what else was there to do?

         He shrugged.

         Besides, when he wasn’t relaxing, he was out and about, doing superhero-ish stuff until it was time to take action upon something which needed it.

         His eyes went to the pretty red gemstone on the coffee table where it happily sat upon a tiny pillow for comfort. Gosh, that was nice of the owner to give that to him; although, he honestly didn’t know what to do with the thing or where to put it.

         Suddenly, a suggestion came to him, causing him to perk up in his seat, “Oh, my dresser! Perfect.” Well, that took care of that.

         After accidentally opening the box with the fortune cookies and mints instead of the beef, he decided to go ahead and munch one of the cookies. They were good anyway.

**_Crack._ **

         While shoving the crunchy treat into his mouth, his eyes followed the small slip of paper land upon the table. Larry picked up the fortune note and then, as soon as he swallowed, read it out loud: “ _You are one of a kind - so full of kindness, thoughtfulness, and compassion_.” He smiled from amusement. “Well thanks!”

 _Man_ , these things are great.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_8:58 PM_ **

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “I didn’t steal anything!”  
         “Aye aye, that’s what you said the _last_ time you were brought here.”  
         “ ‘Innocent until proven guilty _’_!”

         Officer Scooter huffed at that line being thrown at his head. “I’m aware of that! I’m pretty certain you’re guilty, knowing you and yer pals.”

         The thief grumbled to himself as he sat back down on the cell’s cot. He couldn’t wait to hear the end of it from the others whenever he was let out. Honestly, if the ‘burg was _that done_ with him and his antics, why didn’t they simply toss him into prison? This place was too nice for its own good sometimes…

         “At least it won’t take me forever to fill out the paperwork,” the officer said out loud, “we’ve gotten a few newer computers to help us out with _that_ chore while we keep an eye on you fellows.”

         “Oh _goodie_ .”  
         “Of course, you and your friends have some of the biggest files saved _on there_.”

         He beamed a smug grin to the carrot with raised brows. “Ain’t that something! It’s like you guys fail to keep us around! If you didn’t have that LarryBoy, you’d probably never get us!”

         “...”  
         “...I’m right, aren’t I?”  
         “Well, your friends anyway. You...we could still catch on our own since you’re not as sneaky.”  
         “You--!”

         “ _Anyway_ ,” Officer Scooter said as he began to head out of the room, “good luck trying to break out of there, laddie! We’ve upgraded our cells with the _latest_ technology. There’s no way you’ll be departin’ sooner than expected!”

         And then all the lights died, followed by the humming being produced by the machines practically maintaining everything now--including the cell doors.

         “ _HEY_! Seriously?!” Great, the dark! How Scooter hated it since he was a wee one! And what’s worse is that, through said darkness, he could tell all the blokes in the cells were now trying to sneak out without him noticing. Well, that should be simple thanks to the dark being their best bud! “H--hey! All of you, stop where ye are! I’m warning you!” He could hear the other officers yelling similar things wherever they were; in addition to that, other voices were rising in volume, which scared him even more. What was happening!?

         “Hey,” a voice whispered behind him, “guess what? I’m gettin’ out of here ‘sooner than expected’.”

         The last thing the officer knew, he was struck across the face and was knocked out cold.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Right as the end credits rolled, it was abruptly interrupted by a breaking news bulletin. On top of this, before Larry could hear what the breaking news was, his emergency phone rang. He quickly got off the couch, darted over to the end table which held the sleek black phone and then answered it.

         “Mayor Blueberry? What’s going on?”

         The French woman’s voice hurriedly replied, “It’s the power at the jail -- it’s completely shut off! All of the detainees took the chance to escape and now they’re out there!”

         Without missing a beat, “How many of them are there?”

         There was a pause, possibly her getting info on that inquiry. “Seven. Although there is a chance our police force can round them up by themselves, it wouldn't hurt to have someone as speedy as you helping out. Can you do it, LarryBoy?”

         Determined, he answered with a firm, “Yes, ma’am.”

         “We’ve informed all the citizens to stay indoors while the search is in process, so it should be easier to spot the runaways. Do be careful if you approach them! An officer of ours at the station was struck by them..”  
         “I’m on it.”

          **_Clang_ **. He hung up the phone with an inhale of breath.

 

 

         “ _Okay_ ,” he said to himself as he buckled the belt around his waist, “seven baddies are out and about in town, and they could be a danger to the citizens.” Larry grabbed his mask. “Not on my watch.”

         The call was made almost two minutes ago, so he had to hurry.

         “At times like these, I wish I had a car though…” Larry grumbled. “Aah well, no time to moan about it now.” He watched himself through his bedroom mirror as he pulled the mask on. “The town needs a hero to round up these bad guys, and _I’m that hero_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Junior was sitting in the living room with his nervous parents while they watched the breaking news on the television. This was pretty scary...reminded him of the movies he and Laura may or may not have watched on accident around Halloween nonetheless. Heck, this reminded him of the comic books he read. Bad guys escape jail because the cells break down on their own until the heroes toss them back in.

         ...hmm…

         Curiously, the asparagus wandered over to the window and peered out, wondering if _he_ would go by. A gasp escaped him as his thought came true. “There he goes!”

          _LarryBoy_ , using the silly contraption on both sides of his head, went by, launching and swinging himself further into town. Amazing how he didn’t get a headache or hurt himself in some other manner while doing that, but hey...some folks aren’t able to feel pain, so perchance he was one of them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Where were they?

         He frowned as he landed on the roof of a restaurant for a moment to catch his breath. For the past fifteen minutes, he didn’t catch a single bad guy in sight. Well, the mayor mentioned that there was a chance in which the police force captured them already. Better check.

         He reached to his utility belt and pulled out his pocket communicator. As soon as he pressed it on, he spoke, “Mayor? Did your team get them all?”

         There was talking on the other end, though faint, but then Mayor Blueberry finally responded, “We’re still missing one.”

         “Dangerous?”  
         “He’s the one who attacked one of our officers.”  
         “So he _is_ dangerous?”  
         Sigh. “... _yes_ , LarryBoy.”

         “Tell me what he looks like.”

         His eyes continued to scan the area nonstop as he listened on to the woman’s words.

         “Funny thing about him...he’s the short scallion that you caught just eight hours ago. Do you remember him?”  
         He raised a brow. “ _Him_? Didn’t seem like the dangerous kind since I’ve handled him before...but if you say so. I’ll get ‘im, Mayor. See you soon.”

         He ended the conversation.

         And now, back to business with a clear objective.

         “Too bad there’s no lead on where he could be though…”

         With one last look at the surrounding below, he shot his unusual choice of transportation and began to swing once more to find the baddie running amok.

         “Let’s see, if I were a bad guy who messed up on a robbery,” he tried evaluating where he could be, “where would I go after escaping jail…?” LarryBoy paused when an idea struck him. Could he really be around there? “Maybe he wants a do-over from today. Could get some nice hot coco after all this is done, too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         LarryBoy landed on the rooftop of the cafe ever-so-gently thanks to the slightly taller establishment beside it. He had to crouch, to be certain he wasn’t spotted somehow. Carefully, he approached the edge of the roof and peered over.

         He whispered, “There he is…!”

         That rapscallion was sneaking up to the store with brick in hand!

         He stood up straight, saying, “Second attempted robbery _and_ destruction of property? Not while _this_ hero’s around!”

 

 

         His heart pounded faster while creeping towards the store he tried hitting before, the brick in his hold being tossed up and down for preparation. ‘ _Screwed up the first time_ ,’ the scallion thought as he smirked at his reflection in the store window, ‘ _but there won’t be any REPEATS!_ ’

         And as soon as he threw the brick back in order to shatter the glass--

         “ _So_ , we meet again!”

         ‘ _Shoot!_ ’ The scallion spun around and saw that darn LarryBoy a few feet behind him. “L--LarryBoy!”

         “Put down the brick and step away from the store.”  
         “Why should I!?”

         He raised a brow, replying, “Probably since it’s not right to steal, buddy. Now put the brick down.”

         When the scallion still refused to drop the weapon, LarryBoy used one of the plungers on his head to yoink the thing away from him, earning a feeble glare from the thief. As he took a step forward, the scallion took one back -- this happened three times, but while he took one more step, he could tell the thief was now cornered, his back touching against the store. He had nowhere to run--

         He made a mad dash to the right, and LarryBoy immediately followed him. Of _course_ , why wouldn’t he!

         “Get back here!”  
         “Never!”

         Down the empty sidewalk they went, passing by the various shops and apartments as they did so. Dang, this guy was giving him quite an abundance of trouble in one day, wasn’t he. LarryBoy didn’t believe this scallion had the stamina to run so fast, but here he was, practically outrunning him with ease! If he couldn’t capture him with his own force, he’d have to resort with his plunger buddies.

         LarryBoy tossed his head in order to discard the brick and then used the same plunger to shoot at the rapscallion ahead. Knowing darn well he’d do that, the scallion thief looked over himself and quickly dodged the strange weapon of choice. LarryBoy reeled the plunger back in response and tried his luck again. Boy, how he wished he had powers right about now. Flying after him would’ve been quicker than this…

         Wait, he was slowing down! Now was his chance!

         “Incoming!!”

         LarryBoy blinked. “Whuh--?” Who said that? Certainly wasn’t the scallion in front of him--

         Suddenly, his eyes and lung were filled with a strange smoke, and he cried out loud from the impact it left upon him. LarryBoy could hardly keep his stinging, watering eyes open as he felt himself stop in his tracks. His body was beginning to suffer a similar sensation of prickles digging deep into him. What was going on!? He grunted, falling to his knees.

         ...w--wait...do these guys have knees? Don’t ask me. Anyway…

         He could hear the scallion thief stop running and slowly approach his form with a light, out of breath, laugh. “What’s wrong man? Smoke in your eyes?”

         The unknown voice from earlier spoke up again, this time it was closer, “Come on, let’s get outta here. Boss is waiting.” LarryBoy now realized who it was -- it was the second-in-command of the scallion trio! How could he have forgotten?

         “Y--you’re not going anywhere!”  
  
         While the shorter scallion laughed before walking off, the taller of the two simply said, “I don’t know about that. You look like you’re in a bit of a pickle.”

         “...I’m a cucumber.”  
         “Oh, sorry. Anyway, have fun down there! See you next time, LarryBoy!”

         A negative, twisting sensation in his chest was the reason for the costumed hero to struggle himself up; however, whatever this suffocating air surrounding him was causing nothing but trouble for him. He wheezed loudly whilst weakly blinking his eyes open.

       Just as he thought...smoke! O--or a cloud. Wait, wait...it was fading away, but he still felt as though he was burning everywhere. Feeling his nose starting to run, he sniffled loudly but knew he still needed to try going after those guys…

         ...uh, where did they go?

         ...ah. Those rapscallions sure were getting better at being bad guys, weren’t they.

         LarryBoy, through red and puffy eyes, blinked several times in order to get the stinging to leave. “U--uh oh…” He coughed and coughed as he shakily searched for the communicator in his utility belt. “Mayor...gotta tell her…!”

         At first, he wasn’t sure he had pressed the correct button to contact her but was quickly assured upon hearing her voice on the other end. “LarryBoy?”

         He coughed and sputtered, trying to tell her about the thief getting away. “H--he…” Wheeze. “He got awa--...” Wheeze. “I--I--I’m trying to say he got away--”

         “L--LarryBoy, do you need assistance?”  
         “Oh no, I--I’ll be…”

         He began coughing again, something which caused concern for the mayor.

         “LarryBoy, please stay where you are! We’ll send assistance, alright?”  
         “N--no! The scallion’s still out there…! I’ll be fine…!”

         Blackness enveloped his vision, causing him to gasp in panic. Darn it, he thought it was dying off, but apparently not! He was panicking on the inside about what to do, but on the outside, he felt himself pressing against a wall or building, coughing madly whilst burning tears poured. Blinking -- he tried blinking as an attempt to see.

         Worthless.

         ...welp, guess he really needed help out of this.

         He sniffled loudly. Some hero he was…

         Again, he sniffled while muttering, “Ow” over and over from the harsh pain everywhere. Oh how he wanted to go after those rapscallions now!

         “What on earth…?”

         LarryBoy froze up -- well, somewhat thanks to that smoke or whatever messing with his nerves -- as soon as he heard a male’s voice not far from where he stood. To try and hide the embarrassment he felt that a civilian caught him like this, he beamed a heroic grin through shut reddened eyes. “Greetings, c--citizen!” Cough. “What…” Cough cough! “W--what seems to be the tr- _ouble_?”

         There was silence for a split second but then LarryBoy heard the folk approach in a panic. “The trouble is that you’ve been pepper sprayed _badly_! We need to flush that out. Hold onto me and stay calm.”

         He didn’t have much of a choice...plus he was hurting everywhere and could hardly speak without coughing as though ill. He could tell the helpful samaritan was close enough for him to lean against him, so he did just that. Within a minute, he was hurried further down the sidewalk for a few seconds. Although he couldn’t see where they were headed, LarryBoy had an idea upon the familiar scent of hot chocolate and other comfort drinks surrounding him like a blanket. He heard murmurs and questions along the line of “Is he okay?” and “Is that LarryBoy?” LarryBoy felt his cheeks burn at that. Suddenly, the hurried movements stopped, and he was urged to stand in front of something.

         “Do any of you have some more soap I could use? It’s an emergency...” Pause. “...thank you.” The samaritan was talking over their shoulder, if LarryBoy had to take a guess by how faded the voice seemed. “Sir,” he was now talking to him, “I’m going to flush your eyes out with cold water for a bit. Once I’m through, I’ll have to do it again with some soap. I’ve saline eye drops for once all of that’s done.”

         “Well, okay. Th--thanks for all of t _HIS!!_ ” LarryBoy yelped when a large amount of cold water poured over his face.

         This process of getting the painful substance out of his eyes and around the areas of his face which weren’t fortunate enough to be shielded by his mask took quite a long time, which left the vigilante to his thoughts for the time being. Mayor Blueberry must’ve been worried sick about his condition...then again, she might be disappointed that he allowed the final crook to flee from his clutches. Speaking of running off, where did those two scallions scatter to? Perhaps their hide out...it would be pretty obvious.

         He sighed. “I really messed up back there.”

         “How so?”  
         “O--oh, ya heard me?”  
         “Yes. I apologise…”

         Weakly, LarryBoy chuckled. “Nah, it’s okay. I was just sayin’ that I didn’t think they’d pull a fast one on me like that. Should’ve worn goggles.”

         “Oh, so you underestimated their capabilities? That’s all right...we’ve all been there,” he calmly assured him.

         “Say, thanks for doing this by the way.”  
         “My pleasure!”  
         “No seriously,” he insisted as he felt his head being tilted back by the other male, “I owe ya one, Mister…” LarryBoy paused. Whilst his eyes were carefully pulled open and he finally saw a white ceiling and fluorescent lights, he asked, “Uh, what’s your name? The name’s LarryBoy.” Once more, he yelped upon a drip of eye drop being applied to each eye, but before he could make a comment about it, he finally saw the helpful civilian -- a male asparagus -- staring at him with a small smile. He was dressed rather formally and even donned a monocle over his right eye. Must’ve been heading somewhere before he found him.

         “Glad to meet you. I am Alfred,” Alfred introduced himself. “How do you feel, LarryBoy?”

         “Well...my eyes still sting a little, but I can see better...and my throat’s clear.”  
         “Good to know!”

         LarryBoy almost jumped when he felt something vibrate in his utility belt. He shot an apologetic grin to Alfred. “One moment please.” Knowing what it was, he whipped out his communicator and answered it. “Mayor?”

         Mayor Blueberry’s voice rung out, “LarryBoy! There you are! We were beginning to worry when you didn’t answer! What happened?”

         Oh boy.

         “Well, to make a long story short, Mayor...I was pepper sprayed when I was close to getting him, and then he ran off with another scallion.”  
         “That’s why you were like that the last time we talked! Are you alright? Do you need medical assistance still?”

         Sure she couldn’t see him shake his head, but he did it anyway. “Nah,” he paused to beam a thankful smile at the asparagus beside him before telling the mayor, “Alfred here helped me out.”

         “Alfred?”  
         “Nearby citizen. He patched me up good as new! A--anyway, Mayor...what should I do? Scallion’s gone.”

         “I’ll have a few officers search for him and his partner. As for you, you should rest.”

         LarryBoy’s eyebrows raised questioningly. “You sure?”

         “Of course! The effects are going to take a while to be rid of. Don’t worry.”  
         “Well...whatever you say, Mayor Blueberry. Goodnight.”

          **_Click_ **.

         LarryBoy immediately let out a defeated sigh. “Given the leave. First time this ever happened. I guess I messed up badly, huh?”

         Alfred butted in, “Chin up, LarryBoy...like I said, everyone makes mistakes.”

         “True.”  
         “I would have to agree with the mayor’s words, anyway. The spray’s been removed from your vision, but that doesn’t guarantee that you won’t have problems still functioning at your best. That would be a risky move if you went back out there.”  
         “True again.”

         Then Alfred asked something, “Do you need a lift?”

         He blinked. “You’re offering me a ride home?”

         Alfred nodded, his smile not faltering at the least. “Of course. You might not want to move a lot after that.”

         LarryBoy only thought about the offer for a second before giving him a nod. “Guess I owe ya twice!”

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “...whoa.”  
         “Are you that impressed?”

         LarryBoy tilted his head at the sight before him. “Well, yeah. I didn’t think you’d own a motorcycle...based on how you’re dressed, anyway.”

         From the motorbike, Alfred gestured with his head for LarryBoy to hold aboard the sleek ride. Once he made certain that the silly-looking hero was on, he started the engine. “Where do you live?”

         “Know that huge mansion down 33rd Street? If you drive straight from we are for a while, there’s gonna be a pair of big gates. Should be open.”  
         “You live there? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…”

         With that, the duo drove off into the late autumn night.

         And that was how LarryBoy met Alfred.

 

 

* * *

 

 


	2. Signed, The Tech Whisperer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to finishing my essay and chapter two of this. At first, I thought this would be three chapters, but I have a feeling it might be a wee-bit longer, so...expect two or three more chapters in the future!

* * *

 

 

          **_Click._ **

         As soon as the door to his mansion opened all the way, LarryBoy called out, “Honey, I’m home!”

         Alfred, who had escorted him all the way, quirked a brow. “You’re married?”

         He paused. “...actually no, I’m not. I just like saying that whenever I get home.”

         The asparagus blinked. “Oh.”

         LarryBoy took a step inside whilst Alfred stayed outside. He turned to him. “Anyway, thanks again for doing all of this for me, Alfred. How ‘bout we meet up tomorrow for a while? There’s a fall fair happenin’. I’ll treat ya there!”

         Uncertain, Alfred questioned the costumed hero, “Are you sure? It’s not really necessary.”

         “Nah, I insist!”  
         “Well...alright.”

         This reply made LarryBoy grin. “Great! You know the park near town hall? That’s where it’ll be. Starts at twelve.”  
         “Twelve it is. Well, I hope you get your rest, LarryBoy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

         With a nod and smile to LarryBoy, Alfred began to walk away from the large residence, heading down the long winding pathway to where his motorcycle was parked, waiting for him to return.

         LarryBoy called out, “See ya tomorrow, Alfred! Have a safe ride on your cool motorcycle!” He saw the tall asparagus hop onto his motorcycle, turn it on, and then speed off into the night within seconds. “Cool guy…” He whipped off his mask and sighed from feeling nice cool air hitting his once covered face. “Maybe I should leave early and apologize to Mayor Blueberry for letting that scallion slip away,” Larry said to himself, “it’d be better than not saying anything…”

         He yawned all of a sudden. Shoot, must be tired from earlier.

         “But first...some sleep.”

  
  


         The town of Bumblyburg certainly was peaceful around this time, and due to it being autumn also assisted with the atmosphere. Alfred hardly had to stop at a red light, which made his trip back home shorter than expected. Alfred Asparagus lived alone in a cozy two-bedroom house at the end of town. Indeed, it was lonely at times being the only resident there; however, he had been used to it for many years.

         He pulled up to the parkway and shut down the purring machine he was on.

         Upon removing his helmet, the first words to come out of his mouth was, “I can’t believe there’s an actual superhero in this town -- and I had a chance to _meet him_ nonetheless!”

         Carefully, Alfred turned around in his seat. Wow, he could see LarryBoy’s mansion from a distance thanks to that hill it sat on.

         “A legitimate superhero though. How... _silly_.”

 

* * *

 

 

_**Signed, The Tech** **Whisper** _

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Although the scallion thief was still running around out there, the “stay indoors” message spreading throughout town via television and radio was dropped since the other more important six were captured; however, civilians were _then_ informed to keep an eye out for him due to the apparent attack of an officer _and_ the town’s local superhero.

         ...Anyway, the fall fair -- “cleverly” titled “Bumblyburg’s Annual Fall Festival at the Park” -- commenced without worry. The carnival rides such as the ferris wheel, roller coaster, and merry-go-round went on as usual. Games -- hopefully they weren’t _rigged_ \-- were set up and played by the citizens who came to this public event. Tons of pumpkins, crunchy red and brown leaves, and hayrides could be found here. Oh yeah, there was also the food to enjoy...such as the warm meat buns. Typical fall-related stuff went on, basically.

         A loud yawn escaped from Larry, something which caught Junior’s attention while mid-bite of his delicious meat bun. “You sleepy, Larry?”

         Larry yawned again as he looked over at the kid beside him. “Kinda.” The backpack he had slinging over himself began to slip, but he quickly used his shoulder to pull it back in place. Phew, close one. “Last night was somethin’ else.”

         “Was it that ‘Alf’ marathon you were talking about, or those bad guys running around last night?”  
         “...you could say that.”

         That was when a voice from far away suddenly called, “Hey Junior, wanna go on the roller coaster?”

         The kid in question turned his head and then engulfed the rest of his food, nodding. “Coming, Laura!” Junior glanced to Larry, asking, “Are you ready to take on the rides?”

         Apologetically, he shook his head. “Nah, not yet, Junior. I feel a bit queasy so I need to drop by home for a minute, but I’ll meet up with you later on when the light shows start.”

         “ ‘kay, catch ya around!”  
         “See ya!”

         Larry kept an eye on the asparagus child until he was certain that he was with Laura Carrot. The two darted off to the line for the roller coaster -- and with that, he hurried over to the entrance of the park with someone on his mind.

         From behind a tree, Larry immediately whispered, “There he is.”

         Alfred, taking in the place, entered the park with his eyes going from area to area. His eyebrows suddenly knitted together in thought, probably wondering where he was supposed to find the costumed hero from hours prior to now...or he was confused.

         Back and forth Larry’s head went in order to check if anybody was watching him or not. This huge tree, thankfully, stood tall and wide enough to cover him as he placed his backpack on the ground and opened it up.

  
  


 

         This was casual enough, right? A heavy brown sweater with a red scarf had to have screamed “fall” enough.

         ‘ _It shouldn’t be this difficult to spot him out_ ,’ Alfred thought as he continued scanning the park for him, ‘ _but then again, maybe he’s trying not to stir attention what with him being a superhero and all. I doubt he’d come out of costume for a stranger..._ ’

         “Psst, Alfred...over here!”

         A familiar voice was attempting to get his attention, which worked with complete success. Where it was coming from, though, didn’t surprise him the bit. Behind the massive tree, the costumed man from last night had his head poking out, urging him to come over to where he hid from public eye.

         Once turning his head around to make sure nobody saw him and became suspicious about what he was doing, he went over to him.

         “Hey there, Alfred,” he greeted the Brit with a natural smile. “Ready for some fun?”

         “Are you…” he squinted his eyes at LarryBoy, questioning, “going to stay hidden from everyone else, or--”

         “Nah, I just need to finish putting on my costume back here and then we’ll start our outing. I’ll be out in a sec.”  
         “O...kay.”

         He grunted once, twice, perhaps three times as, from behind the tree and away from Alfred’s sight, he pulled up his flashy-coloured costume. “Hungry? We can get something to eat first.”

         Alfred, feeling awkward from hearing the grunts, turned his gaze away. “W--well, yes, actually. I was in a hurry earlier this morning, so I forgot to eat breakfast.”

         “Food it is then! Anyway, while I finish prepping myself up, tell me about yourself!”  
         “Me?”   
         “Yeah! You were dressed pretty fancy last night. Gotta be someone big and important, right?”

         He smiled doubtfully as he adjusted his monocle. “Oh, no. I’m simply someone with a preference for that kind of clothing. There’s nothing special about me.”

         “Hmm, could’a fooled me saying that. I thought you were cool with that motorcycle of yours.”  
         “Come now, it’s only a motorbike…”   
         “Which is _rad_.”

         Right after a loud click from behind the tree, LarryBoy suddenly yelped which caused Alfred to jump in surprise.

         “What happened?!”  
         “...I...may or may not have pinched myself while putting on my utility belt.”   
         “...oh.”

         “S--so,” LarryBoy changed the subject due to embarrassment and trying to distract himself from that painful tweak, stepping out from behind the tree in his whole outfit, “ever had a Bumblyburg scone? They’re extra filling…”

  
  


 

         After hearing a satisfied hum beside him, LarryBoy looked over to Alfred who sat beside him in the hay pile, mouth full of a flaky jelly-filled scone. “How is it?”

         Alfred, either because he was starting to unwind or because the cart they were in went over a bump, fell back into the straws with his mouth still savouring the dessert. The asparagus swallowed the bit in his mouth. “Just like home,” he sighed out.

         “Home?”  
         “Britain.”   
         “Whoa. That’s far from here.”

         “Indeed it is,” Alfred responded, sitting up as well. “There are times when I miss it, but...I enjoy living here as well. Besides, leaving Bumblyburg would give me the same feeling of loss as I have now for Britain, so…” he trailed off and then decided to finish the rest of his food, for his mouth was beginning to salivate again.

         “Yeah,” he agreed, “I get what you mean about the moving thing.”

         Alfred glanced to him.“Not from around here either?”

         “Moved here from the mid-west when I got older.” LarryBoy shrugged, smiling. “I miss home sometimes, but Bumblyburg’s home to me even more than the place I was born in.” He paused and then darted his eyes to his side. “That’s okay to say, right? ‘Cause, at least, people like me here.”

         Chewing on the final piece of his scone, the Brit turned to LarryBoy upon hearing that last sentence. How odd...did LarryBoy, when he wasn’t in costume, not that well-liked back in the mid-west? What for? He seemed to be, although silly, a nice guy. Alfred, after swallowing his food, changed topic, “Oh! L--LarryBoy, I forgot to ask about your eyes. How are they?”

         He brightened up, looking to Alfred. “A whole lot better thanks to you. You were a lot of help!”  
         “Glad to be of service--”

         All of a sudden, LarryBoy felt his communicator vibrate on his utility belt. He whipped the device out and pressed the answer button. “Yes Mayor?”

         “LarryBoy,” Mayor Blueberry told him with a sense of urgency in her voice, “that jewelry store from yesterday has been robbed and there have been sightings of the scallion and his accomplices fleeing the area!”

         He frowned, brows immediately furrowing. “Again? They must really like that place to try a third time within a week…” Sure it might be seen as dangerous to do so, but still, the vigilante stood and listened on for any other detail.

         Alfred worriedly looked to him and then out to the streets as the wagon made a turn. “Oh dear…”

         The mayor went on, informing, “They’re approaching the corner of 23rd street as we speak--”

         Alfred interrupted upon realisation, “That’s the corner _we’re_ on!”

        This grabbed LarryBoy’s attention, making him perk up, alert. “Really?” His eyes spotted the street sign. It read the exact number which the mayor told him. “Perfect!” Hurriedly, he said into the communicator, “Don’t worry, I’ve got ‘em this time. I won’t let you down, Mayor!” He turned to Alfred with an apologetic grin. “We’re gonna have to end this a bit sooner than expected.”

         “Q--quite alright,” he assured him. “It just occurred to me that I need to visit someone.”

         “Convenient. See ya, Alfred! Hope we see each other in the future!”

         “Oh, um, I will. Do be careful out there!”

         As the wagon came to a halt upon approaching a stop light, the costumed hero tilted his head to one side to aim and fire his unusual weapon into the air. The plunger grappled immediately onto an upcoming business building whose form was rather enormous. As LarryBoy was launched upwards, the hay around him briefly flew into the air as he did so. What a _mess_.

         Up, up into the air went LarryBoy, departing Alfred, the wagon, and the surprised cart-driver. He needed to get a good hiding spot to jump the rapscallions without fail.

         He was prepared _this time_.

         For the moment, Alfred would ignore the pesky hay which landed on him, for he was much more absorbed with what he had witness. The Brit might not be able to see the action which could take place any minute, but still, he was fascinated at the simple sight he saw. “So _that’s_ how he gets around…” he murmured out loud.

         A gentle cough from the front grabbed Alfred’s attention. He turned to see the -- well, he _looked_ like it -- shy gourd staring at him, uncertain about what to do. “...was he coming back?”

         Probably not.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Phew, that was rather easy. The shop’s owner had decided to open the store later today, which allowed the three scallions to sneakily break in and out within a matter of minutes, just as the cops were informed of the break-in. Now they managed to get this far from the scene of the crime -- hopefully without being spotted. So, what was left? Well, now the trio had to cross the street from the alleyway they hid in. After they made the dash, it would be home free with their recently acquired goods in tow.

         “See? I told you it was worth it!”  
         “You’re lucky that we managed to get you out of there, dummy.”   
         “...don’t tell me you’re _still_ peeved that I lost your eyeshadow.”

         The tallest of the scallion trio huffed at that, something which the shortest one inferred it as a firm “yes, yes I am”.

         “ _Seriously?_ That happened a month ago!”   
         “It was my favourite shade! Do you know how long it took me to get that!”   
         “But it’s _eyeshadow_ \--”

         As the reunion in the form of a squabble advanced even further, the middle scallion ignored the two and continued his watch of the street across from them. Traffic was light with the three or four cars casually going by -- none of those cars, so far, have been cop cars.

         He perked. “Guys.” When he knew he got their attention, he turned his head and told them, “We should try going now. Low traffic, no cops in sight. Sound good?”

         “Grand,” the tallest spoke up in reply. “No screwing up today, understood gentlemen?”

         The other two nodded.  
         “ ‘Kay.”   
         “Won’t do it again, Boss.”

         The tallest of the trio, also known as Boss Scallion, took center and gestured the two to follow him well. Sneakily, Boss Scallion slipped out of the alley, followed by the second and third rapscallion. In perfect unison, they darted behind the cars which stopped at the red-light. They ducked low enough so they wouldn’t be spotted in any of the driver’s rear mirror and did it well, since they’ve done it many times prior to this day.

         Almost there...

         The middle scallion whispered out, “Psst, Boss! Cover your bags.”

         Boss turned to him. “Why?”

          _Fwip!_ The two bags he carried were snatched out of thin air, causing him to gasp in shock whilst the cars drove off down the street. In his stomach, he had a bloody idea what happened to his jewelry. As he spun around to face the pest, the jewelry bags were yanked from his accomplices in rapid speed. The trio looked up…

         ...and there was LarryBoy staring down at them from atop a roof. “Afternoon, gentlemen!”

         The boss tsked. “You took our possessions rather quick, LarryBoy. Could we have them back?”

         The costumed hero cocked a brow. “I doubt this stuff belongs to you and your buds, Scallion Boss. This belongs to Shimmering Treasures and its owner. Anyway,” he questioned, “you guys wanna give up or are you gonna start running again?”

         He felt his two companions turning, staring at him; however, he attempted to keep his cool rather than crumbling into submission. “I’m certain you know the answer already,” the boss simply told him.

         LarryBoy heard the faint cries of the police cars, because of that, he knew he needed to take action now before the trio ran away once again.

         A scene such as this has happened plenty of times before in the year which he began his superhero work, so he knew that the longer he and the crooks stared at each other, prepared to make the first move which determined the outcome of everything else.

          _Twitch, twitch_. The nerves of both side jerked.

         He made a leap down to them just as Boss Scallion yelled out, “You’d better hope you won’t cough too much!”

         It was as though time slowed down for his sake. LarryBoy was right over them when the second scallion whipped out a tiny metal ball and tossed the item directly at him. He already had a solution to this minor obstacle thanks to the boss’ hint of what was being hurled. Using his cape, he made a mad upside swipe at it and then quickly covered his face.

         Time returned to normal.

         Immediately, there was a loud pop, followed by an equally loud hiss and yelps and cries of the three scallions.

         Once LarryBoy landed with his protective mask on, he lowered his cape to inspect the damage. Try as they might, the second and third scallion couldn’t open their eyes even as the haze faded; meanwhile, Boss coughed and coughed and managed to merely have a single eye half open. It looked as though he was trying to say something…

         ...well, actually, _do_ something…

         ...which he did.

         In a rather bold move, Boss Scallion sucked in some air and then flung himself towards LarryBoy; however, instead of crashing into him, Boss swiped something across the hero’s face, earning a yelped “ow!” LarryBoy, through the burning pain on his cheek, forced himself to recover quickly by turning and shooting one of his head-plungers, capturing the boss before he could get any further. For good measure, he shot the other plunger and caught the other two. Hey, just because they still had a difficult time seeing doesn’t mean they wouldn’t try to run.

  
  


         When the three police cars arrived at the scene, the officers found the three scallions tied together with some rope, plopped on the ground in a sitting position. Feet away from them sat six bags which, upon opening them, contained the stolen jewels from Shimmering Treasures.

         “ _Well_ , well, well, we meet again so _soon_ , scallion,” Officer Scooter said as stepped forward to the trio whilst the other officers began putting the bags into their cars. “Y’got me last time, but I’ll be darned if you’ll pull that trick on me again while you’re locked up!”

         The third scallion immediately grumbled, “Yeah yeah…”

         Meanwhile, the second scallion glanced to his boss. “Maybe we’ll be let out sooner on good behavior.”

         Boss Scallion sighed, eyes half-lid in annoyance. “Let’s hope so.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

    “Ow ow ow ow ow…” LarryBoy successfully slipped into a public restroom in order to check the damage which Boss Scallion inflicted. At the moment, he was carefully peeling his mask off, high enough to see the cut. Wow, would he have thought he would bleed on the job, but...here he was. Yikes, it was a nasty cut, but Larry knew it could’ve been far worse had the boss dug that -- whatever he used -- any further.

         He squinted his eyes and forced himself closer to the mirror to further examine the injury. _Shoot_ , it’s gaping. Larry reached over to grab a paper towel. Once he soaked the brown paper with cold water, he dabbed at the wound. “I should see a doctor about this…” he said to himself, “just in case.”

         He tossed the used paper towel into the bin, tugging his mask back into place.

         LarryBoy looked at his reflection and then beamed, puffing his chest out. “The day is saved, at least! Maybe I’ll have enough time to ride the roller coaster if I see the doctor right away.”

  


         Dashing out of the bathroom for a running start, LarryBoy shot one of his head weapons to a nearby building and launched himself higher and higher off the ground. From above, he could hear an occasional exclamation of “Look!” or “It’s LarryBoy!” LarryBoy couldn’t help but nod down to them whenever he heard them taking notice of his presence. _Gosh_ , it was a wonderful feeling. The view of the city as he swung from building to building felt wonderful as well, now that he thought about it; although, it appeared even cooler at night and around Christmas.

         However, there was a bit of an issue transporting this way. “Ow...” He cringed when the cool air whipped his injured cheek. Should’ve covered it with something while he was in the bathroom.

         Down below, at the annual fair, Junior and Laura had finished their third round on the roller coaster and had decided to take a snack break. As Junior stuffed another portion of cotton candy into his mouth at the picnic table, he suddenly noticed a familiar being swinging from building to building feet away from them.

         “LarryBoy?”

         Hearing the superhero’s name caused Laura to pause her eating as well. “Where?” Laura instinctively turned her head around and saw the sight as well. She exclaimed, “It _is_ him!”

         Seconds later, the hero went by the park and continued onward.

  
  


         Alfred adjusted himself on the motorbike which was parked at the park entrance just as he felt something coming this way. He blinked, glanced right and left and then chose to look behind him. There was LarryBoy, happily making his way downtown with the help of his silly choice of “weapon”. When LarryBoy swung closer to the area he was in, the two made eye contact. A smile crossed his masked face, continuing on his way to wherever.

         “Looks like he’s accomplished his mission.” He wrapped the scarf around him tighter in order to make certain it wouldn’t fly off during the ride or get in his face.

         Once he was fully set, Alfred departed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “Thank you again for getting that trio, LarryBoy. You did it so _well_!”

         “It was nothin’, Mayor,” Larry chuckled out with a half-smile since a whole one would hurt his stitched cheek. “Sorry it took a whole day to catch that smaller one, though.”

         Mayor Blueberry quickly waved it off, saying, “ _Nonsense_! You caught him regardless! Anyway,” she then changed the topic, turning it into a casual one, “are you alright? You sound a bit muffled.”

         He glanced to his cheek for a moment and then back to his television. “I bit my cheek.”

         “Oh...sounds painful.”

         “Don’t worry though. It’s just a lil’ swollen. I’ll be fine later.” Larry reclined into the sofa, warming himself up in a blanket even though he tossed on a sweatshirt. He just needed to relax, even if it was just a few hours before the fireworks show. “...say, Mayor?” He shifted in his seat. “I have a question.”

         Curiously, she responded, “Yes?”

         “...y’know in comic books how...um...certain superheros have more than one way to be contacted?”  
         “Why, yes?”   
         “Well, I just thought of something...maybe we should have something else you could use to call me if I’m not near my phone...especially since the cord is pretty short as it is.”

         On cue, the stretched-to-its-near-limits phone cord made a weak creak, a sound which made Larry quickly rise from the couch and stand closer to the phone’s cradle.

         “Good idea. Any suggestions?”  
         “A spotlight in the sky?”   
         “Ooh, so a beacon signal! I’ll try getting that done--”   
         “Actually, Mayor…”

  


         The mayor slowly opened the door to her building’s roof and stepped out, her large mobile phone with her. At first, she had seen nothing out of the ordinary, but when Blueberry stepped further out, she paused at something which now seemed out of place.

         One of the four spotlights the building owned had a suspicious-looking tarp on top of it.

         Immediately, she inquired into her phone, “How did you…?”

         “A few days ago,” he simply replied.

         She hummed in thought, quirked brow as well as she tugged off the tarp. The other brow instantly went up.

         “It took me awhile to get the stencil on right,” sheepishly the hero explained to her over the phone. “What d’ya think, Mayor?”

         “So, this is the…LarryBoy Signal.”  
         “Wow, you already knew the name I gave it!”

         Mayor Blueberry laughed lightly. “It was a simple guess, dear LarryBoy. I’ll be sure to get one installed for the police then...if you haven’t gotten to them already.”

         “I had planned to yesterday night but ya know…”  
         “True, true. Well, I should be going. I’m checking up on the fair across from here. Perhaps you could try dropping by there whenever you can if not today. _Thank you_ once more for capturing the thieves.”

         LarryBoy laughed embarrassingly. “Shucks, Mayor, that’s what heroes are supposed to do! Have fun at the fair!”

         The two managed to hang up in close unison.

  
  


         Mayor Blueberry stepped out of the elevator, humming a tume to herself. Once fixing her glasses, she went over to the source of loud tapping -- a receptionist desk -- and checked on the receptionist, an asparagus lady, herself. “I’ll be visiting the fair across from here. I know your shift will be over in a hour, but would you like for me to send over a caramel apple, meat bun, or any other fair treats?”

         She smiled sincerely, shaking her head as she answered, “No thank you, Mayor, but thanks for the offer. My family and I are going to eat as soon as I get there.”

         “Well, alright! Be sure to jot down any important calls for me while I’m gone, you know the drill.”  
         “Yes, madame.”

         With a nod at her, Mayor Blueberry departed from the building, leaving the receptionist to her work at the blocky computer.

         ...how she’s typing at her computer since she -- and everybody else -- lacks hands is beyond me, to be honest.

         So, for the next few minutes, she typed away at the computer, checking everything which needed an update or a review. Her eyes only focused on the black screen in front of her as she hummed along with a song in her mind.

         A small box blinked for a split second at the upper left-hand corner.

         “Hm?” She paused, blinked. What was that?

         The receptionist stared at the screen’s corner to see if the action would occur again. Four seconds she waited and soon shrugged it off and resumed her work. Minute by minute, she could feel the end of her shift arriving and, honestly, she couldn’t wait. She could smell the delicious funnel cake all the way across the street.

         A small box blinked for a split second at the upper left-hand corner.

         She turned her head to the corner, feeling as though that weird box was present again.

         Nope, nothing.

         She returned to her business.

         Something blinked on another section of the screen, but she tried to ignore it, for she felt as though this was merely her mind tricking her. She reached over to the right and flipped the radio on, instantly greeted by Phil Collins’ voice.

         “Ahh...” She turned back to her computer.

         There was a new line of words, words which she didn’t put in which read:

          _Please do not panic! I am passing through. :-) - Signed, The Tech Whisperer._

         She blinked with a raised eyebrow. “What…?”

  
  


         Mayor Blueberry had gotten off the merry-go-round with a caramel apple in her possession when she spotted her receptionist approach her. Smiling, she greeted her. “Well, there you are! How did the last minute work go?”

         She made an uncertain smile back, responding appropriately, “Yes--”

         “Splendid!”  
         “But…”   
         “ ‘But’ what?”

         She briefly averted the questioning gaze, but then the receptionist gave in and forced her eyes back to the mayor. “It’s just...a strange message popped up before I came over here.” She pressed on, saying, “Something about a ‘Tech Whisperer’ passing through.”

         Mayor Blueberry quirked a brow, intrigued. “How unusual. Did it harm the computer or cause any sort of malice action?”

         She shook her head. “No.”

         “Nothing to worry about then! Now, go ahead and meet up with your family! Have fun!”  
         “I will. Thank you, Mayor.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

         “And finally, the last escapee from Bumbyburg Jail last night was returned early this afternoon along with two accomplices.”

         Alfred listened onto the last minutes of the news report at the bar counter whilst finally removing his scarf.

         “Once again,” the female leek reporter stated, “LarryBoy, the costumed hero who’s been assisting the town for a year now, successfully caught the trio just as they nearly got away. Meanwhile, Shimmering Treasures, the store which was hit by the group, is quickly recovering from the robbery and should be open later next week.

         According to officials, the recently installed security system became disabled just before the scallion trio waltzed in and took as much as they could. Aforementioned officials do not believe they were the cause of the security system’s sudden shut down.”

         A drink was placed before Alfred by the bartender, whom he bowed his head as a mean to silently thank him for the beverage.

         “As a side note, Bumblyburg’s Annual Fall Festival is about to begin its fireworks show, so stick around channel 13 if you want to see for yourself. And that’s the BLN evening news.” She made a pleasant smile at the camera. “This is Esther Leek, signing off. Good night.”

         Alfred drank away the warm drink, feeling himself becoming more relaxed by the second upon it hitting his stomach. He sighed through his nose, pleased by the sensation.

         “Alfie!! _There_ ya are, babe! What’s the four-one-one!”

         Well, so much for the atmosphere being relatively quiet and peaceful.

         There was a grunt to the left of him as he chose to now down his drink in order to greet the semi-loud one. Alfred sat the empty glass down with a sigh, saying, “Hello to you too, Montgomery. When did you start speaking like that?”

         Montgomery, a persimmon, chuckled lightly as he removed his sunglasses, placing them in front of himself. “For a while now. It’s just that I knew you’d get annoyed by it.”

         “W--well, no, I wouldn’t do that, it’s only a shock to hear you using slang…”  
         “Well it _is_ the 80s for a little while more. I want to use it before it’s out of style!”

         Alfred hummed.

         “Anyway,” Montgomery allowed for his fake accent to slip from American to his actual British one, inquiring, “how you’ve been, love? Haven’t spoken in a bit since I’ve been out of town.”

         “Fine,” Alfred simply responded with. “You?”

         “Ki-i-i-i-inda busy.” The persimmon shrugged. “It wasn’t the same without you being with me...kinda boring, in fact... _but_! It’s all over now.” Montgomery grinned to him, beaming. “Got here a few days ago, slept in the whole time, and as soon as I was recharged, came a-a-a-all the way to find you. Had a feelin’ you’d be here.”

         It was now Alfred’s turn to laugh, though gently since he was in public. “You know me well, Montgomery.”

         As he watched the asparagus gesture the bartender back to him, Montgomery leaned back against the stool’s head and then spoke up, “So, you know that superhero with the plungers who’s getting big here?”

         He blinked, turning to him. “LarryBoy? What about him?”

         “How strong is he?”  
         “What…?”   
         “Does he have any other weapons I should know about, or--”   
         “Why are you asking me these things?”

         “You know why, baby,” he nonchalantly responded as he picked up a menu resting beside him. “I wouldn’t mind having a go at him.”

         Alfred rolled his eyes at that. “Montgomery, _no_.”

         He frowned. “Aw, come on. Wouldn’t it be fun to see me and LarryBoy going at it?”

         “And get hurt in the process?”  
         “I would _not_ .”   
         “That’s what you said the last time you tried fighting a superhero.”   
         “That bloke called you a name though! I was defending your honour!”

         “I can assure you,” Alfred said, “all he did was call me ‘gentleman’ in a sarcastic tone. I can tell LarryBoy isn’t like any of the ones we’ve had the misfortune of coming across. Leave him be.”

         “You’re not very fun,” he grumbled feebly, his eyes going downcast. Suddenly, he shot his eyes back to Alfred and practically inflating in his seat. “Say, it’s been a while, but how about the two of us rent a room tonight and play Twister?” Montgomery paused. “...you know, maybe Twister wouldn’t work that well since the lack of arms and legs, but...we could play _other_ games!”

         As soon as his new drink was placed down, Alfred reached for it and guzzled the carbonated thing within seconds. Montgomery took that as a simple “no”.

         Montgomery tilted his head at him. “So…LarryBoy...you said you ‘could tell’ that he’s probably nice. What, did you meet him by chance or something?”

         He sat the empty glass down once again. “Twice, yes. I assisted him last night after his eyes were assaulted by spray,” he explained, “and then today, I spent some time with him before he needed to leave.” Alfred’s eyes softened all of a sudden. “He’s so silly, though. In _every_ aspect, he is _silly_ . His costume, the colour choice for them, his childlike personality… _everything_.”

         His brows raised at Alfred, taking notice of how quiet his voice became near the end. “Good heavens, you seem rather fascinated by him easily. You’re acting as though he used his ‘grappling hook’ on your heart.”

         Alfred huffed. “Such a way to put it. Anyway,” he announced, rising from his seat as he rested the accurate amount of money (plus tip) on the counter, “I shall be going now. We’re still meeting for tomorrow, right?”

         “Yep, my place at eleven for some brunch and then we’ll talk.”  
         “I’ll see you then, Montgomery.”

         Alfred turned and began his stroll out of the restaurant--

         “BYE, BABY~!”

         Run, began his _run_ out of the restaurant from embarrassment...that, and he could feel stares piercing his back upon “baby” being thrown at him by another male. Darn that Montgomery trying to make him the centre of attention!

  
  


         As he wrapped himself again with the warmth of his scarf, Alfred finally made it outside and was cheerfully greeted by fireworks going off in the autumn night air. For a moment, he stood there and watched the beautiful display of lights blast and vanish with their various colours and patterns. He never had a chance to see this back at home due to being busy and whatnot, so this sight was a bit special for him.

         That realisation caused his shoulders to slump and his gaze to soften.

         “I’ve certainly missed out on things like this…” he commented, “but better late than never.”

         He hopped on his motorbike, and off he went.

  


 

* * *

 

 

 

         “So how’s your job at the fair comin’ along, Jerry?” The gourd at the computer, phone cradled against himself in order to multitask while having a chat. “Uh-huh…that LarryBoy fella was riding in one of them until he took off?” He listened to Jerry’s reply and then huffed, “Yeah I’d be surprised too if a superhero launched themselves outta the wagon I was driving!”

         The gourd leaned back in his office chair, both now half-lid eyes on the screen in front of him. “Wanna trade side jobs? This one’s kinda boring. It’s always ‘Jimmy, you’ve gotta type this many codes!’ ‘Jimmy, you’ve gotta make sure the codes are the right ones or else they won’t work correctly!’ ‘Keep your eyes on the screen when you’re typing codes, Jimmy!’ ” Once again, a huff came from Jimmy. “I--I don’t even see the appeal of these boring formulas or whatever they are. What are they trying to make, a super computer program or something? They didn’t bother to tell say what I’m actually doing and it’s suspicious if ya _ask_ **_me_ ** \--!”

         He paused as his eyes opened back to normal.

         “...uh, y’know what I said just a second ago, Jerry? I think I was kinda on the right track…”

          _Do not be alarmed. I am just checking out what your company has. I will be through in a minute. Thanks for your patience. :-) - Signed, The Tech Whisperer._

 

 

* * *

 

 

**to be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit of a snooze, but hopefully the next chapter won't be. :B


	3. Acknowledgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's been a mysterious messenger by the name of "Tech Whisperer" who's been leaving notes on several computer systems throughout Bumblyburg, and it seems he's warming up for something bigger. It's time for LarryBoy to start digging for clues until he finds him.
> 
> Or rather, the Tech Whisperer finds HIM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is something finally happening?
> 
> Well, I guess so. :B
> 
> By the way, Vicky was a character from the very short-lived "LarryBoy: The Cartoon Adventures" who worked at Daily Bumble.

* * *

 

 

          **_Fwap!_ **

         Larry whistled along with the song on his portable music player as he continued mopping the third-floor hallway of the building. Almost done already? Wow, this was a record! Aah, this was actually kinda calming in comparison to the superhero business, _plus_ , he got to interact with others (on cue, an old man by the name of George passed by, and the two said hello and went on their way) and hear any news about you-know-who being spotted doing something awesome.

         Speaking of that…

         As Larry sneaked to the entrance of a certain room, he immediately heard work-related chatter occurring between two occupants.

         “So just as he went by the fair, I managed to take a few shots of him from where I was. They might be a bit blurry, _bu-u-u-ut_ …”

         A hum. “Well, _this_ one’s a bit on the blurry side, but the others will do. Nice work, Vicky.”   
         “Since you seem to be satisfied by them, I’ll head out there and search for any eye-capturing news...or whatever’s newspaper worthy. See ya, Boss!”

         On cue, Larry backed up as Vicky waltz out of of the office, humming a tune to herself while adjusting the collar of her dress. Immediately, she noticed the janitor, beaming a charming smile at him. “Morning, Larry!” She paused and the smile on her face vanished. “Are you okay?”

         He blinked. “What do you mean, Vicky?”  
  
         “Your face! It has a scar!”

         Oh shoot. He almost forgot about the mark on his cheek after yesterday’s events. “Ohh…” he sounded upon realization.

         Quick, think of a reasonable answer! Yes it’d be lying, but he couldn’t blow his cover as LarryBoy -- even if it was Vicky!

         “Well,” he responded, although averted eye contact with the woman and pulled the mop closer to his body, “when I was walking down the sidewalk, I slipped on something and then when I was trying to catch myself, I cut my cheek on something sharp.”

         She winced at either seeing a visual of how it happened or simply staring at the healing slit on the janitor’s face. “Oh.” Her eyes went from the mark to him, saying, “Hope it didn’t hurt too much. Does it hurt now?”

         Larry shook his head. “Nah.”

         Yes it did.

         “Anyway, I’m gonna head out and find some scoops about anything _mildly_ interesting. Make sure to treat that cut with whatever it needs, okay?”   
         “ ‘Kay.”

         “See you around!”

         Whilst the reporter took off towards the elevators, Larry decided to check on the boss, Bob. Just like a lot of times he entered the office, the first thing he saw Bob doing was scanning something at his desk as the computer beside him quietly hummed. He needed to clean his floor anyway, so Larry entered with his mop and wheeled bucket and immediately smacked the mop’s head onto the floor. As soon as he heard the familiar splat sound, Bob’s head snapped up.

         “Oh, you’re here already, Larry?”

         Larry nodded, his grin ever present as usual. “Yep! How’s everything here, Boss?”

         Bob sat back against his seat, replying casually, “Well, Vicky managed to snap a few shots of that LarryBoy guy after he left those scallions tied up on twenty-third street.”

         His chest fluttered at that. _Gosh_ , how he felt so...so excited that people actually took pictures of him in costume. “Really?” Larry, while still mopping at the tile floor of the office, backed up to Bob’s desk until he was at his side. “Can I see?”

         He was about to comment on how close he was to breaking his personal space bubble; however, Bob decided to let it slide for now since Larry appeared to be rather interested in seeing the photos. Now that he thought about it, Larry certainly got eager whenever LarryBoy was ever brought up as a topic. Guess he was a fan of that strange costumed...pickle? No, LarryBoy was a cucumber, probably.

         Larry leaned down to get a better look at the four photos. One of them was a bit blurry, but he could still see his form in mid-swing from one building to another. From assumption upon seeing the park gate and the small half of a vendor, Vicky took this photo at the festival. Oh right, she mentioned seeing him “at the fair” earlier. He looked at the second one, again in mid-swing but with better quality.

         “Ooh~...this one’s rad.”

         “It is, isn’t it? This one’s interesting.” Bob lifted the third photo which piqued Larry’s curiosity.

         The final photograph was another mid-movement image; however, instead of seeing a side-profile of himself, LarryBoy’s whole front was visible. From this distance in which the photo was taken, he could see one eye was clenched tight in grimace while he still had a smile on his face. Larry knew why he made that expression. Darn chilly air made that trip to the doctor even worse.

         Larry, though, chose to be innocently unaware about what was so fascinating about the picture. “Why’s this one interesting?”

         “Well at first I thought there was something stained on the photo…” he started as he lifted the magnifying glass beside him, “but when I took a closer look,” Bob paused to hold the image and glass to Larry and then said, “I saw that it was a cut on him! I wonder what caused the injury…”

         As he grabbed the items from Bob, Larry used his free nonexistent hand to pull the recently dipped mop close to his face as a mean to shield the cut on his face. “The scallions?”

         “I know _who_ caused it. I was wondering _how_ . Maybe with a knife…”   
         “Pocket knife.”

         Just when Bob questioningly turned to him, Larry pulled the mop closer to his face in an instant. Didn’t want Bob to connect the dots. He was sharp like that, after all.

         “You know…” Bob commented, “if he’s walking around, out of costume, that scar would probably be noticeable. When people see this photo and then see a civilian cucumber with a similar cut on his cheek...maybe we’ll know who LarryBoy is.”

         Nervously, Larry chuckled at this. “Yeah, it would.”

         “I think we’ll use this one, just to see if we get any reports about a possible LarryBoy out-of-costume sighting.” He paused, now noticing how uneasy Larry became overtime...plus having that mop so close to his face. “...what are you doing?”

         “My face felt dirty so I felt like cleaning it,” he lied. “Anyway! I’m done mopping the floors, so now I’m done for the day. See ya tomorrow!” Larry shoved himself, the mop, and the wheeled bucket out of the room without another word to the boss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “A-a-a-a-and...ta-da! Your computer’s all set!” The persimmon got out of the office chair and allowed the female carrot to take her seat back. “Remember, if you’ve got any questions,” he informed, “just ask for Montgomery when you call that number I gave you. See ya!”

         Once the woman smiled with a nod as a sign of gratitude towards him, Montgomery strolled off with a whistle. “Well, another setup for brand new computer, another job well done.” What with it reaching the evening hours, perchance now would be good as ever to check up on something once he left this stuffy place.

          **_Ding!_ **

         Upon exiting the elevator, Larry whipped off his cap, sighing, “Close one. I could tell Bob was getting suspicious about me…” He looked back at the elevator as he began to head out of the establishment; however, he suddenly felt himself bump into somebody in front of him, earning a grunt from the folk in question. Larry quickly apologized as the persimmon turned,  “Oh, I’m sorry!”

         “Aah, don’t worry about it none,” he reassuringly told him with a half-smile and a shrug, “I stopped to fix my tie unexpectedly, so _I_ should be the one apologising. Sorry, Mister…?”

         “Larry,” he offered his name with a grin. “I accept your apology, Mister--?”

         “Montgomery,” he announced his own name to the cucumber. “Montgomery _Persimmon_. Were you heading outside?”

         “Yeah.”

         “Here,” Montgomery hurried up to the revolving door, saying, “let me get the door to make up for it, mate.”

         “Thanks mister!” He plopped his hat onto his head and made his way toward the door.

         Montgomery, since there was enough space to enter the portion of the exit as well, followed suit. “You work here by any chance?”

         Larry nodded, turning to him. “Yep!” All of a sudden, he paused and thought about the question for a moment. Yeah, he _did_ work here, but he was simply a janitor...nothing really crucial to the establishment. “...kinda.”

         The two now went into the cool autumn air. Perhaps it was Larry’s hopeful thinking, but the grey clouds looming over the town seemed a bit different somehow. Could it be that they would have their first snowfall so soon? Gosh, he really wanted that to happen. He could drop by the festival after work and check out the snow-covered scenery! Aah, and then, he could shove his mouth full of hot cocoa and meat buns…

         Meanwhile, Montgomery cocked a brow at the worker. He had been staring up at the clouds with a curious look which then melted into a face which screamed “I’m hungry!” Was this guy okay? “Are you...doing alright there, Larry?”

          “Whuh--?” He felt himself getting yanked from his thoughts once he heard Montgomery say his name.

         “You spaced out suddenly.”  
         “Oh. I was just wondering if we’re gonna get snow today.”

         He glanced to the sky briefly and then to Larry. “Looks like we might...” he added, “or rather, I hope so. Between the two of us, it’s a perfect mood setter when you wanna relax and take a gander at nature.”

         “I was kinda thinking about playing in it and stuff.”  
         “...that too, now that I think about it.”

         “So...you waiting for the bus?”  
         “Nope. I’m waiting for a friend, but knowing him, he had to bundle himself to his chin to keep warm, so he’s running a bit late.”   
         “Oh.”

         The two stood there, silent and uncertain what else to say whilst they waited for their friend and bus respectively. Larry felt the need to dig through his jumper pockets in order to retrieve his pass and perhaps anything of use. As Larry did that, Montgomery observed Larry’s face, a brow raised again. Something felt _peculiar_ about this janitor. Maybe it was his partially squeaky voice, the buck teeth, or that suspicious wince-worthy cut on his cheek, but…

         “So, erm, Larry...”

         Blinking, Larry cranked his head to Montgomery. “Yeah?”

         “My friend and I actually moved here not that long ago,” he said, “and recently, we’ve heard that there’s a superhero here. Is that true?”

         ‘ _If only he knew he was talking to ‘im_ ,’ Larry thought, and then he answered truthfully to Montgomery, “Sure is! His name’s LarryBoy. The town needed a hero ‘cuz of the monsters and crooks who pop up from time to time, so he came along! Pretty tough guy, _if_ I do say so myself~...”

         “LarryBoy huh? Interesting name…” he murmured, glancing downward in thought. Suddenly, his eyes caught the sight of somebody coming down the sidewalk from where Larry stood. He lifted his head up and a grin came to his face upon realization of who it was. “Well now, _there_ he is!” Montgomery leaned his body to one side so he could be noticed whilst calling, “Alfie!!”

         Of course, Larry turned around to see who this “Alfie” was--

         --and paused upon seeing a familiar someone.

         “I _knew_ you’d be swaddled in clothes. That’s what I was just telling my new mate here!”

         “Well it _is_ freezing today, Montgomery,” Alfred pointed out once he got close enough to speak at regular volume, adjusting his heavy trench coat along the way. Noticing Larry, he made a polite nod to him. “Good afternoon, Mister--?”

         “Larry,” Montgomery butted in with the janitor’s name.

         Larry beamed a bright smile to the familiar face and, before he realized it, blurted out, “Hey there Alfred!”

         And then he realized it.

         With half-lidded eyes, Alfred looked to Montgomery. “I suspect you were talking about me?”

         “Not by your name though,” Montgomery confessed. He glanced at Larry in question. “How _did_ you know his name?”

         “Uh…” Larry’s eyes darted back and forth, earning a confused stare from both men as the movement lasted for three seconds; however, he spontaneously explained with, “he looks like an ‘Alfred’.”

         Alfred blinked as he tilted his head, confused by what that was supposed to mean, muttering a mildly confused “what...?”; meanwhile, Montgomery managed to infer Larry’s words, grinning.

         “Ooh, I understand what you mean!” Montgomery said, “He’s a British gentleman who seems stuffy as a bloke with a cold until you get to know him! The only thing missing is him being old.”

         “ _Cut it out_ ,” Alfred immediately objected.

         Larry decided to speak up again. “I didn’t mean it to be mean, Alfred,” he apologized, “sorry…”

         “Oh no, it’s not your fault!” Alfred assured him, “Montgomery's attempting to tease me and doing a _mediocre_ show at it. He does this often, trust me, Mister Larry.”

         Wow, Alfred could get pretty dry when he wished to be, didn’t he? It was kind of off-putting to be seeing him again, minus costume and a dire situation, but at the same time, he got to see what Alfred was like when LarryBoy wasn’t around.

         “Anywho,” Montgomery announced all of a sudden, “we should get going. I gotta drop by one more place before we go eat.” He got closer to Larry and nudged him. “So many blokes are having issues adjusting to their computers today, it’s crazy! Let’s meet again sometime, Larry.”

         “Okay! See ya!” Larry watched Montgomery depart but froze when he felt a pair of eyes on his form. He looked back to Alfred and saw him staring in his direction.

         “Have we met before?”  
         “Well...I don’t think we have…”

         Alfred tilted his head, humming in thought as he did so. His stare must have bore into Larry, for he notice the tiny shift the janitor made whilst he was processing something in his mind.

         A smile came to Alfred’s face, getting Larry’s notice.

         “Alright then,” he concluded. “Like Montgomery said, let’s meet again sometime, _LarryBoy_.”

          _Shoot_.

         Larry began to sweat bullets as his brain yelled at him for doubting that Alfred wouldn’t realize who he was. “L--LarryBoy? Me? Ah--I don’t follow--”

         Alfred suddenly laughed politely, saying, “I _kid_ , don’t worry!”

         Like a record scratch, Larry felt his heart return to its normal beat rate and his body, which had stiffened, loosened up, and the rest of the severe anxiety running throughout himself ceased. All he said once that happened was, through a sigh of relief, “ _Oh_.”

         “Goodbye Larry,” Alfred finally said, nodding with a smile.

         “Bye Alfred,” he responded as Alfred walked past him.

         Thankfully, Larry didn’t need to awkwardly stand there and wait for the bus for a long time, for it soon pulled up to the sidewalk just as Montgomery and Alfred were far from his sight.

  


 

 

         “Say, didn’t that innocent-looking janitor seem familiar to you?”  
         “Well, somewhat.”   
  
         “ _Somewhat_ ? Baby, he looked like LarryBoy out of costume. I watched a video recording of him last night. LarryBoy’s voice came out of him! Plus, his name’s Larry! Larry, Larry _Boy_! He simply added ‘boy’ to his name!”

         “I’m kidding,” Alfred repeated himself from earlier in order to assure his partner. “I had a _hunch_ that was the superhero himself.”

         Montgomery looked over his shoulder and then to Alfred, stammering, “B--but...it’s so _obvious_ ! We _can’t_ be the only ones who know he’s LarryBoy!”

         “There have been cases where actual celebrities show up to look-alike contests of them, and they typically lost. Maybe they can’t connect the dots because it’s not safe to assume something you’re not certain of.”  
         “...still.”

         “Anyway, Montgomery,” he questioned, “what’s our next move?”

         “Brace yourself…” Montgomery made a dramatic pause which lasted a few seconds. Suddenly, he answered just above a whisper, “the _bank_.”

         “...the bank.”  
         “Why aren’t you enthused?”

         Alfred shrugged, making a tiny “I don’t know” hum to accompany it.

         He huffed at that; however, his brows regularised, and the frown vanished upon a thought occurring to him. Chuckling, Montgomery asked, “Are you secretly focused on Larry still? Don’t worry, I’m gonna try having LarryBoy pop out here if there’s any issue going on.”

         Alfred, unsurprisingly, gave him a look. “Larry and LarryBoy are harmless. Let’s simply do our work without the ruckus and leave him alone, Montgomery.”

         “Kind of dangerous to assume he’s harmless simply because of his behaviour back there. That child-like innocence might be a façade when he isn’t running around as LarryBoy.”

         “A _façade_ ?”   
         “Yes, you know! A personality mask he wears to hide what he really is.”   
         “I _know_ what that means…”

         “I’m certain that you _do_ , baby,” condescendingly said Montgomery to him with a half-grin. “Anyway, I wanna still see this LarryBoy with my own two eyes, so let’s do things my way. No objections. I’ll install the bank’s computers, you check when the place opens and shuts its doors.”

         Alfred sighed and then reluctantly answered, “Alright. Remember to write down the number of computers and everything else I mentioned.”

         As the two approached the entrance to Bumblyburg’s number one bank, the persimmon nodded. “Roger, love. We’ll meet at Old Country for dinner asap.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Larry let out a long sigh of relief as soon as he felt himself fully land onto the couch. “He nearly gave me a heart attack back there…”

         Well, it was like any other superhero. One day, a superhero -- out of costume -- would run into someone they were familiar with. That person they’d run into would then question about possibly meeting somewhere before and then asking those dreaded words with a suspicious tone, “Are you…(hero’s name here)?” He should’ve known this would eventually happen to him; however, he still got spooked, worried that someone could spill the beans about who he secretly was. Sure, Alfred seemed like a nice guy, but as a superhero, you had to be cautious of all but your closest friends about your other identity. For all Larry knew, Alfred would leak the fact to the media if he were to ever discover the truth.

         Anyway…

         Licking his lips at the gorgeous dripping sight before him on the coffee table, Larry leaned forward and picked up the sloppy joe. He was about to shove a good portion of the sandwich into his mouth but then paused upon realizing that he almost forgot to pray for the meal. Larry clamped his eyes tight and uttered a brief thanks under his breath.

         “Good evening and welcome to BLN at five!”

         He blinked his eyes open, now with the sandwich in his mouth just in time to see the news beginning for the evening. Well, he didn’t feel like changing the channel and watching the news later tonight, so he left the clicker alone and ate.

         The cute lady, Esther, was the host again. Wow, he wondered if she was the only news anchor for that station. Realistically, probably not.

         “Starting off on this lovely fall evening,” Esther announced, “is the possibility of our first snowfall this week. It is estimated that the fall could cause school closures, so to the parents and college students out there: you might want to check our station for a list of closings.”

         “Snow!” Larry’s stomach flipped at the thought of snow once again. Gosh, how he loved it. He hoped that it would be on a day off from work or -- one could only hope -- work for that day was canceled.

         “There has been a recent update on the jailbreak which occurred at the end of last week.”

         And like a snap of the fingers, Larry’s full attention returned to the news.

         Esther, without missing a single beat, disclosed, “According to the Bumblyburg Police officials, someone or some _thing_ managed to take complete control of their security system, thus opening the gates to each and every cell. However, this was not the only thing which happened. Besides the entire system being taken over by an unknown force, the electricity for elsewhere went down for an hour.

         In addition to this, some are saying this -- and the robbery of Shimmering Treasures were done on purpose. Our news team managed to grab the multi-technician who worked and installed the security system at the jail to see if he had any thoughts on the matter.”

         When Larry took another bite of his sandwich, his eyes widened a bit at Montgomery being on the television.

         Montgomery was standing in front of the police station while a microphone was lowered to his mouth. By how bright it appeared outside, the interview might have occurred before the two of them met. “So, I began checking the computers for a bit and noticed something seemed off while I had it on. Upon digging through the program selections, I spotted a very _questionable_ program called ‘Wooden Horse 101’. I opened it to see what it would do. There was nothing but a simple command input. I asked them when they installed it; however, they told me they did no such thing. I attempted several times to delete ‘Wooden Horse’, but it didn’t work!”

         Esther’s voice spoke off-camera, “What about the security system? Same thing?”

         “Well,” he stated as he fished something out of his jacket pocket, “the security system had _this_ attached to it.”

         It was a grey circular object, the same size as a golf ball. Seemed metallic thanks to the sun’s rays giving it that affect. Larry leaned forward his seat and noticed there was a smile drawn on it with red marker. Huh, kinda looked like that Otto fella from “Berzerk”.

         “Since the officers claimed they hadn’t a clue where this came from, I’ll be examining it at my establishment to see if I might figure this out.” Montgomery tossed and then caught the object once it fell. “For all we know, it could be some kind of spy or hacker doing this. We’ll see.” He nodded to a camera, smiling in an oh-so charming manner, saying, “Thanks for the interview, loves. Have a pleasant tomorrow.”

         “Thank you, Mister Persimmon.”

         Larry scrunched his brows, feeling an odd sensation run through him. “My hero senses are tingling…” rather corny he muttered about what he had just seen.

  
  
  


         “In other news, vendors at the Annual Fall Festival will begin selling Christmas-related goods Monday. ‘Tis the season now since Thanksgiving has come and gone.”

         The keyboard he typed at “ticked” and “tacked” gently in volume as he listened to the television at the front of the living room. His eyes only focused upon four things: the front door, the large window beside it, the notebook to the right of his desk, and the computer screen itself. Now completely used to where the keys were for specific letters, numbers, and other symbols, seldom did he have to briefly glance to the keyboard if the precise location slipped his mind.

         ...don’t ask me how he’s typing. I don’t have a clue either.

         He blinked, and he could feel how heavy his eyelids became due to his time staring at the screen. Ah, but he mustn’t stop, not just yet.

         The news anchor, Esther, paused right when she was about to speak, possibly going onto another topic. She squinted her eyes at the camera, perhaps reading something that was being held up off-camera. “It seems that our news station received a strange message on one of our computers somehow.”

         He paused, focusing his eyes on the television whilst momentarily halting his typing.

         She nodded and then allowed her eyes to return to their natural state. “According to somebody going by the name of ‘Tech Whisperer’, one of our town’s banks will be infiltrated sometime this week. Here is the Tech Whisperer in their own word…”

         The camera cut to another camera in front of the computer screen with these simple words typed onto a command prompt:

_It took me awhile to get to you, but it looks as though my effort has paid off! I would like to give you a heads-up that I will be making a personal visit to the bank this coming week. I need some money to pay off a loan. Thank you for your time! :-)  - Signed, The Tech Whisperer._

         ... _now_ he could stop typing. The deed was done. All he had to do now was wait until he was given the go-ahead.

  
  


         “A smiley face…” Larry sat even further in his seat, staring hard at the weird message on the television screen. “Kinda looks like the one drawn on the ball thingy Montgomery had.”

         The “hero senses” running through him were going wild! Could it be that the jailbreak and the “Tech Whisperer” had a relation going on? Maybe. There wasn’t that much proof to support the assumption he had, and he knew it. He hummed in annoyance at that realization. Darn.

         “I wonder if anybody else heard from that guy,” he mused.

         “One moment please,” Esther spoke up, snapping Larry out of his thoughts. Off-camera, somebody passed her a piece of paper which she quickly took hold of. In an instant, her eyes scanned it and then turned to the camera. “A major computer programming building and the receptionist desk at town hall reported that their respective establishment received messages from Tech Whisperer on _Thanksgiving Day_ ; however, both messages merely said he was ‘passing by’ and did not hint at committing a crime like the one BLN received.”

         He didn’t know what to make of this besides Tech Whisperer possibly trying to find valuable information to get rich from. “Guess I should watch every bank closely. There’s only three of them…” Larry added in, “Plus, I should use my breaks to check on them. Never know when a baddie will appear!”

         And so, it was set in stone for the crime-fighter.

         Starting on his first break the following day, Larry would casually leave the building and change into his gear before shooting off into the air. One by one, he visited the banks to see if anything suspicious was seen or sent. By the end of the day, everything appeared fine. The second day rolled around -- the results were the same...minus any citizen being present inside since it was Sunday. Monday was an off day for Larry, so he decided to kill time until he needed to check the banks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “Dad’s been making me eat nothing but leftovers from Thanksgiving, Larry, it’s awful…”  
         “Lucky. I ate my last can of sloppy joe, so I’ve been stuck with eating nothin’ but tv dinners…”

         Junior blinked, looking to him from across the picnic table. “What about the leftovers Mom gave you?”

         Larry, of course, laughed from embarrassment whilst his eyes looked away from the stare. “I get hungry a lot, Junior.”

         The child leaned across, whispering, “ _Please_ take ours. Our fridge is swamped with turkey, stuffing, and that gross cranberry stuff.”

         “I’ll think about it.”  
         “Ugh…”

         How else would one spend their day off from work than to spend it with a buddy at the festival? Coming here actually made things convenient for Larry, what with this area being smack-dab in the middle of where the banks were located, though further away. He glanced around as Junior went back to eating his caramel apple. Sadly, the snow which BLN spoke of didn’t appear just yet, but still, Larry had hope that it would occur while the festival went on.

         “You know, Larry…?”  
         “Hm?”

         He tilted his head. “Your scar looks a bit like the one LarryBoy got.”

         If Larry had legs, he would’ve kicked himself then and there for not covering up the still-healing mark on his face. ‘ _Calm down Larry,_ ’ his conscious said, ‘ _just play clueless_.’ He cleared his throat and then questioned, “He got a scar?”

         The reply he got was a newspaper published by a _very familiar_ group being smacked onto the table. There, in the big panel on the front page was the image of him that Bob had. Guess they went with that picture instead of the side-profile…

         “Oh…”  
         “I know, _right_ ? Looks like it hurts.”   
         “It did.”

         Now he wanted to kick himself _two_ times.

         “What?”  
         “W--well, I mean...he’s going through the fall air with a huge cut on his face! The air’s gonna make it sting a lot until he gets it treated!”

         “I hope he did,” Junior said. “He could get an infection…”

         “That’s what the doctor said.”  
         “...what doctor?”

         Three -- _three_ times he wished he could kick himself until he couldn’t sit. Ever since he was a kid, it was difficult for him not to blurt things out -- unfortunately, this impulse of his followed him to adulthood. _Why_ did it have to rear its ugly head now _and_ on something that’s so critical?

         ...maybe now was a good time to check on the banks.

         Larry quickly excused himself (“I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back!”) and dashed out of the park. More citizens were there, unlike the time he met up with Alfred, and he wasn’t going to risk getting caught changing into his suit. Upon approaching an alley, Larry looked down both sides of the sidewalk to see if anybody was around. Nope, not a soul! He hurried down the oddly clean space and suited up.

 

 

 

         The receptionist lady worriedly watched Montgomery click and type at her desktop while the persimmon hummed a tune to himself. Was she ever confused even _more_ by that strange message that popped up on her screen! Then again, she was also concerned that the Tech Whisperer’s claim to rob a bank might be a warm-up to something even bigger…

         “Missus ‘sparagus,” Montgomery inquired, still looking at the computer, “you said that you saw a box appear and disappear briefly at the corner of the screen?”

         She looked from the window and then to him. “Repeatedly, yes…”

         Just as he was about to ask something else, his eyes caught a glimpse of something outside the window ahead. His eyes widened and a tiny gasp escaped past his lips. “LarryBoy?”

         There was the costumed hero, swinging by at a moderate pace, rather casually. Amazing how far those plunger parts on his head could go in order for LarryBoy to access another building within seconds. Guess he was inspired by that spider guy from the comic books…

         The receptionist had turn to look at the window as well but suddenly looked back to her desk once she heard Montgomery rise from the office chair. “Mister Persimmon?”

         “What have we here!” Montgomery poked his head behind the desktop for a moment and then turned to the receptionist with an object in his hand. “Well I’ll be...the same metal ball I found at the police station and programming place.”

         “What?!”  
         “Don’t worry, Missus. I’ll have this computer taken in and have another sent here by tonight. I’ll let the mayor know.”

         “W--well, alright. I’ll just have to use an office computer and paper until then. Thank you for your help.”

         Unsurprisingly, when Montgomery took a quick glance to the window, LarryBoy was nowhere to be spotted. He shot a smile to the receptionist, saying, “You’re welcome, Missus. _Quite welcome_.”

 

* * *

 

 

**to be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fourth chapter will be up much sooner since I'm shortening the length of each chapter. Might be up before Monday!


	4. Manic Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As things are beginning to wrap up at the Annual Fall Festival due to a heavy amount of snow falling, LarryBoy is called out by Tech Whisperer about invading Bumblyburg's First National Bank any minute now. Finally, our newbie superhero will meet with the strange baddie before he even gets CLOSE to stealing the money; however, there's more to the story than that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I should never say a specific date when I'll upload a chapter since it's obviously not Monday...  
> (The chapter title is a reference to the Bangles song with the same name)

* * *

 

 

         If you were to describe how you’d feel upon being rudely awoken by a phone ringing beside your bed, what would you say? If your choice word was “ugh”, then you’re aware about how Alfred felt. How _rude_ that was! The time in which he finally got some sleep was when somebody had to phone him…

         Alfred, as he groggily sat up in bed, checked the time by looking to the cat clock on the wall. Shoot, four in the _afternoon_ …?! His heart skipped a beat, now knowing who was calling him thanks to the time. He snatched the phone off his end table and answered it, though in a half-daze, “Alfred Asparagus speaking…”

         “ _Alfie_ , there you are~! I was wondering why you weren’t answering the phone earlier…” Montgomery’s voice trailed off, but then returned, questioning, “Were you that sleepy?”

         He yawned. “Unfortunately, yes, Montgomery. I’m sorry.”

         “It’s fine. Anyway! Guess who I saw while I was with a client!”  
         “...oh no--”  
         “LarryBoy!”

         Alfred sighed out as he put his monocle on, “Have you reconsidered not going after him? What’s the point?”

         “But,” Montgomery protested, “he’s a _superhero_! Fighting is part of being one, isn’t it? This won’t be out of the ordinary for him in the slightest!”

         “...Montgomery, do you remember why we moved here to begin with?”  
         “It was because even _after_ we graduated from Cambridge, everybody there hated your guts.”

         Alfred flinched. He almost lost his grip on the phone; however, he was quick to recover from doing so. Ignoring the painful prick at his chest, he reminded him, “ _Besides_ what was going on with me, every superhero in the bloody _United Kingdom_ was after you because you just wanted to ‘have a go at them’; thus, forcing _both of us_ to leave. Are you going to start a similar process over here?”

         “Oh come on, don’t sound so sore, baby…” he whined. “Those heroes back at home were full of themselves anyway, they needed a lesson in proper superhero behaviour!”

         “Again, why go after _LarryBoy_ ? What has he done exactly?”  
         “Things are a bit different for him. I just want to see how tough he is underneath that friendly demeanor for fun!”  
         “Can’t we do this to another superhero somewhere else since he’s new to this--”  
         “Alfred?”

         Here it comes… “What?”

         “ _Ple-e-e-ease_ , give me a chance at this plan,” he begged him. “I promise that nothing bad will happen to your dear LarryBoy. He won’t get killed, and he probably won’t get hurt if he’s good at the superhero business. Just get ready tonight. We’ll get the money that I need to pay off some fine gentlemen back home, deal with LarryBoy for a bit, and then we’ll leave him alone.”

         “Will we finally end our ‘extra curricular activity’?”  
         “ _Yes_! I promise!”

         Alfred wasn’t sure how to feel about this even with the promises given to him. He couldn’t refuse Montgomery’s request, for he was the reason why he managed to get out of Cambridge in one piece. He practically owned Montgomery his _life_ , truth be told. At the same time, however, Alfred didn’t want to harm LarryBoy (or Larry) in any manner. Larry/Larry _Boy_ was innocent, new to the superhero concept, but still he carried the aura of a hero. He wasn’t egotistical or downright awful like the ”heroes” back at home.

         God, help him. What should he _do_?

         “...alright.”  
         “ _That’s_ my Alfie. Ah, I can’t wait to finally get those gangs off my back!”  
         “Same, same, but...are you sure you’d want to do this tonight?”

         “I’m certain! You’ve gotten a hang of infiltrating bank systems before since we’ve played this role _plenty_ of times. I mean, I _hope_ you’ve gotten the gist of it. I desperately need to pay them off by tomorrow...or else I’ll have to head out of town again -- temporarily, of course. It’s weighing me down, Alfie, so please let’s perfect this in one go.”

         His eyes gazed over to the window to see the lovely orange hue outside. Yeah, what Montgomery said was true, but he hated it. Within a few hours, he would be out there in the dead of night once he broke into the bank’s recently installed system. As soon as he and Montgomery physically approached the place, _he_ would be there. LarryBoy was naive in behaviour, yes, but that didn’t mean he was going to ignore the message written by Tech Whisperer.

         “We will. I’ll be there at eight, on the dot.”  
         “Great! See you then. Bye baby~...”  
         “...bye, Montgomery.”

         Alfred hung up, sighing to himself, rather defeated.

         “ _What am I doing anymore…?_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

         Well, there was still no signs of trouble, so LarryBoy went back to the festival to spend the rest of the day with fellow citizens of Bumblyburg; although, Larry had to make a quick adjustment before he could rejoin the festivities.

         As soon as the roller coaster came to a complete stop, its patrons hopped off and exited the area with tons of chatter going on between some of them.

         “That’s a pretty cool looking mask you’re wearing, Larry,” Junior immediately said to Larry upon exiting the ride with him. “What made you get it?”

         Larry chuckled as he adjusted the white half-face mask. “I kinda like ‘ _Phantom of the Opera_ ’. It’s creepy…”

         Obviously that wasn’t the true reason for buying a mask which perfectly hid that scar that would raise a few brows if other citizens of this town saw it and the photograph of LarryBoy.

         The kid tilted his head. “Wasn’t that musical supposed to be sad, though?”

         He blinked. “It was…?”

         “Well...yeah, kinda.”  
         “Oh.”

         Right when Larry took another step, something small, white, and cold landed atop the tip of his nose, causing him to briefly shiver from the chilly touch. Automatically, he lifted his gaze to the sky and then let out a gasp. “It’s snowing!”

        Alongside Junior, other patrons at the festival looked up as well to see for themselves. Tiny flakes were indeed falling from the grey, grey clouds above. Finally, what Bumblyburg Local News said was coming true! The twenty-seventh of November, a Monday, would be the first official snowfall of the year!

          _Murmur, murmur, murmur_...

         “Wait a minute,” Junior spoke up again, though sounding confused, “there’s something else in the sky...”

         Larry, not paying attention to the bubbling in his chest upon hearing Junior’s words, asked out loud, “Where?”

         “Over the ferris wheel! It’s a spotlight!”

         Larry’s brown eyes drifted to the far right of the park and then upward. As soon as he saw the familiar spotlight shining in the clouds above the town, his eyes widened at it but then narrowed a little. Calm down, Larry, this might be a minor crime instead of that weird Tech Whisperer fella. Don’t get your hopes up.

         “LarryBoy has his own spotlight?” Junior tilted his head. “Since when…?”

         Not long, Junior.

         The child decided to stop looking up since his neck began to ache and returned it to its normal position. “Looks like there’s ‘ _trouble afoot_ ’,” he said the last portion with a semi-dramatic tone, “huh, Larry?” He looked to him--

         ...but Larry wasn’t there.

         “...he sure loves running off all of the sudden.”

  
  


         Mayor Blueberry wrapped her mink fur coat tighter around herself as she waited patiently on the roof of town hall. Goodness, hopefully LarryBoy wasn’t lagging due to the continuous snowfall which might result to it sticking to the grounds and buildings. Poor man should have a vehicle of some sort, if he didn’t have one already. Another addition to the “hopefully” from before, LarryBoy would get here _soon_ , for what was happening seemed...unnerving, to say the least.

         Suddenly, LarryBoy swung onto the roof and landed feet away from the mayor, his landing resonating a loud ‘thump’ in the process. While he was ignoring it, the mayor couldn’t help but notice how much the costumed hero was shivering from the chilly weather. Strange, did he not have a warmer set of clothes…?

         With a heroic, determined smile which managed to fight over the chattering of his teeth, LarryBoy nodded to her in acknowledgement. “Mayor Blueberry. What seems to be the trouble?”

         “Oh, LarryBoy,” she said, “it’s that Whisperer that was spoken about a few days ago! He’s...doing something to our computers as we speak!”

         “A message?”  
         “I--I believe that is the case.”

         “Well, I don’t understand much about computers,” LarryBoy insisted, “but let me have a look at ‘em.”

 

* * *

 

 

         There were tons of murmuring and chatter between the office workers which greeted the ears of LarryBoy and Mayor Blueberry upon exiting the elevator. Most of the workers bundled together, away from the sections of computers, but kept their confused stares upon the contraptions. LarryBoy immediately squeezed himself through the crowd and approached one of the computers slowly.

         What the…? The screen was going all...weird? What was it doing?

         “The gentleman who installed these computers,” the mayor explained when she saw how confused LarryBoy appeared, “said this might be a ‘glitch’. That’s when the computer begins to act funny, out of the ordinary.”

         “...so, this isn’t normal behavior?”  
         “Well, no. It’s been like this for a few minutes. First, it was this computer, and then every other computer we own joined in on this glitching business.”

         He turned to her. “And you think it’s Tech Whisperer? How?”

         “The messages that appear from time to time! Please keep looking at the screen, and you’ll see for yourself,” she informed him, gesturing back to the screen in front of them.

          At once, the costumed hero turned his attention to the computer. He had to squint his eyes a bit as he stared at the harsh, bursting green and black colors. Phew, at least they weren’t multi-colored...it probably would’ve been far more painful to stare.

_Larry_ **_B_** _oy_

           He gasped at the tiny words which successfully made themselves seen through the glitching background. Immediately, the office workers huddled behind him to watch what was occurring. Come on, there had to be more than that--

_I just want **e** d to say that I hope you are having a delightful time at the festival. **C** ould go for some fun **a** s well... fo **r** I am bor **e** d... **f** or I am bored. Yo **u** know what, I think I will! **L** et us see...how about the bank? **P** erhaps the first national bank wil **l** hav **e** the **a** mount I need! How about we meet there? ;-) - **S** incerely, Th **e** Tech Whisperer. _

         Everyone in the room gasped, which also included LarryBoy and Mayor Blueberry.

         LarryBoy exclaimed, “I gotta go!” Carefully, he squeezed himself through the group of workers with grunts to accompany the slow action. “Might wanna...call the police too…just in case!”

         The mayor poked her head out of the crowd and said, “Keep warm out there! The temperature’s dropped since you’ve gotten here! He might use it to his advantage!”

         From across the room, near the exit, “Got’cha!”

 

* * *

 

 

         Well, Mayor Blueberry was right...the temperature certainly fell in a dramatic fashion within a short amount of time; however, he knew he needed to overcome it for now and get to the bank before Tech Whisperer did. Sure, he’ll get a nasty cold tomorrow and probably had to call in sick...but! When there’s danger afoot, he would have to answer that first. After all, that bank’s goods need a hero right about now, and--

         “I! Am! That! _Hero_!”

          ** _Bang bang!_**

         He yelped at the sudden appearance of fireworks in the sky and almost swung against a building but quickly fixed his posture. LarryBoy’s eyes looked back at the park, knowing exactly where the fireworks were being shot from. “Surprised they’re still doing that, as cold as it is…” he said through a shiver.

         Through the cold weather, he continued his way to the bank as fast as he could swing himself from building to building. The snow falling had become even heavier and thicker in appearance. Perhaps the town was going to get a lot. Who knew.

         As he finally spotted the national bank just feet from him, he darted his eyes about its surrounding area, attempting to see if anything appeared out of place...or, if somebody was there either in plain sight or in hiding. “Nope, nuthin’...”

         LarryBoy, not wanting to be seen, landed atop the seventy-year-old bank’s roof as quietly as he could muster rather than letting himself land in front of the entrance. He’s read enough comic books to know how easily he’d give his presence away.

         Now...how to get in? He needed to think quickly, for he had to idea when Tech Whisperer would strike. For all he knew, Whisperer was possibly here already! That’d be awful, wouldn’t it?

         He chose to scale down the side of the thirteen-floored bank with the help of the silly contraption on the left side of his head. For windows, he would have to break into them, and he knew that would’ve been a bad idea what with needing to pay for the _damages_ once his work was completed. Besides, the money was typically held on the first floor, all the way in the back. As he past the fifth floor, the wheels in his head turned, trying to crank out a perfect solution to this dilemma.

         LarryBoy came to a complete halt once reaching the ground.

         The bank doors were open.

         “...oh.”

         ...well, at least he didn’t waste _that much_ time.

 

* * *

 

 

         Gosh, being in a closed building still felt strange to him after all these months of having to do similar things. Dark, quiet, strangely cold atmosphere, not a soul behind the counters, at the four or five cubical offices, not even that one folk who loitered by the free coffee table to get their fill for a long day ahead wasn’t present.

         He took a step forward, his eyes diligently shooting to and fro the lobby. LarryBoy needed to go onward and check on the vault once he knew the coast was clear here.

         …

         He sucked in some air and then exhaled.

         Next.

         Sneakily, ever so sneakily, he made his way down the tiny hallway to the right of the lobby. LarryBoy, hearing nothing so far, pushed himself further, for the vault wasn’t far from his grasp. He could’ve sworn he heard something make a “ping” sound from afar; however, he wasn’t certain, especially when his heart pounded just a tad faster.

         Nobody was there, and the vault was still sealed shut.

         He blinked. “Guess I got here early…” LarryBoy paused. “Wait…”

         Something was on the vault’s number pad.

         It was a tiny, metallic ball with a red smiley face drawn upon it.

         “Tech Whisperer…”

         Suddenly, a loud, mechanical scream sounded from the lobby, causing the costumed hero to jump. He swiftly turned his head back to the hallway. “Shoot,” he whispered.

         He hurried off, for he had an intuition that the baddie could be hittin’ the registers for money first since the vault was left untouched for now.

 

 

         Nothing seemed out of place except for the continuous screech of something. He’d put on earplugs, but he simply didn’t have the time. What he truly needed to do was to figure out where the sharp sound was coming from.

         Okay, it was on his right.

         LarryBoy gasped. “The computers…of _course_!”

         He dashed behind the counters to where each one had a computer. The screens were flickering wildly like the one at town hall and emitting those awful sounds! Did these have a message as well?

         ...agh, that sound was so _annoying_!

         Through the visible cringe he had on his face, LarryBoy observed one of the four computers, hopping a message would soon appear to him.

          _Look_

         “ _Look_ …” he read the first visible word out loud. Ah, another word! “ _Look_... _behind_ …”

         Pause.

         “... _you_.”

         Well, he walked right into that one, didn’t he? And judging by that second figure that was being reflected by the computer screen, that appeared to be the case.

         LarryBoy spun around, putting his hero act on full speed. “Tech Whisper--AGH!” He had to duck before he could finish saying the rest of the baddie’s name, for a strange looking bat was swung at him. The bat, rather than striking the hero, smashed into the poor computer, breaking its screen in an instant. Shoot, was he going to try whacking him now since he missed?

         “...bleeding heck, nice dodge. Poor computer, though. It hurts seeing it in that state. Think I should finish it off?”

         Uh…

         LarryBoy rose. The one who swung at him was a bit on the short side -- perhaps he was a tomato or something similar --, but that strange bat made him look even more intimidating than the strange black visor covering his eyes. “Um,” he questioned, somewhat confused, “are you Tech Whisperer?”

         He shrugged, smiling at him. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

         “Were you trying to hit me with that weird bat?”  
         “My cricket bat? Yeah, I was. Wanted to see how good you are at being a superhero, so...here I am.”

         LarryBoy quirked a brow at him. “So, since you’re not gonna tell me if you’re Tech Whisperer...could we settle this later, citizen?”

         The tomato-looking guy sighed. “Actually, I don’t think that’ll happen. You see,” he explained, mindlessly allowing the bat in his hold to weakly sway against his side, “I’m in _desperate_ need of money to pay off a loan that’s due tomorrow, _bu-u-u-ut_ since you’re a supposed superhero and whatnot, you’re going to stop me, aren’t you?”

         Was that a challenge?

         Of course, he replied, “Yeah, I’m gonna have ta, if you’re planning on stealing it.”

         “Can’t wait to see how that’s going to play out,” he said, his smile widening, “ _Larry_.”

         “...it’s Larry _Boy_ .”  
         “I know! I’m calling you by your actual name.”

         What the heck? He knew his identity?! No, don’t panic, that’s not important. The bank’s money was in trouble, and he needed to focus _solely_ on that.

         The visor-wearing Brit lifted the cricket bat once more. “Here I come, love!”

         LarryBoy dodged the swinging bat again, causing another computer to meet its end in the process. He swung again, and then LarryBoy moved to the left, right, ducked, did all three for a bit, but then remembered he could’ve taken the bat away from this guy with his plungers. Why didn’t he think of this sooner?

         He shot one of his plunger contraptions at the bat. A heroic smirk came to his face when the Brit struggled to get his bat free, but LarryBoy was quick to tug back. It was now a grunt-filled tug-of-war for the weapon. Boy, this fella was strong…!

         The baddie got his weapon free which made LarryBoy gasp. That never happened before! Usually, he would’ve gotten the weapon away from its owner! Things got worse, however, when the unknown guy made a complete spin with his cricket bat within seconds and made the wooden equipment whack LarryBoy’s left side. Immediately, the costumed hero cried out and hunched to the side which was struck.

         “No armour? Wow, you’re pretty brave.”

         He struggled out, “Um...th--thanks...??”

         “No problem! Now,” he swung the bat back, prepared to strike him once again, “I must inform you that there’s something on your cheek. Here, let me get it!”

          **_Whack!_ **

         He winced upon seeing the contact made between his bat and the injured hero before said hero hit the ground and slid across the floor a bit. “No face-guard under that mask of yours either? Wow, you certainly _are_ new to this ‘superhero’ thing, aren’t you? Just stay down there and let me get my money.”

         LarryBoy coughed as he struggled to get up, his right cheek burning from the outright cruel action. No, he couldn’t let this guy get away with the money! He had to protect it, no matter how hurt he got! Up, up, there we go…

         He shook his head in order to clear the buzzing going on in his head just in time to see the tomato-looking guy say something to the ceiling. Wait, what?

         “Okay, Whisperer,” he was calling out, “I stopped! Let’s get working on getting the money! The ones in the registers were put away somewhere else, before you ask.”

         LarryBoy squinted his eyes, murmuring to himself, “Whisperer…? So this guy _isn’t_ him…”

         When he didn’t get an answer, the Brit frowned. “Whisperer?” He called out again, “Whisperer! Are you busy, baby?”

         He looked to the visor-wearing baddie, trying to figure out where exactly he was looking to, but then it hit him. LarryBoy’s eyes caught the sight of a security camera near a corner of the lobby. Was...was Tech Whisperer using those cameras somehow?

         ...should he strike while the guy was busy talking?

         Sure, why not.

         “Hello? Batsman to Whisperer? Where are you?” He huffed. “It _shouldn’t_ be taking you this long to reply. There’s only a _few_ places you have to unlock besides the vault.”

         LarryBoy slowly turned his left head towards ‘Batsman’ as he listened on the one-sided conversation.

         Batsman perked up suddenly. “Oh, there you are. I was getting worried! What’s the status?” He listened to the reply. “So the vault will be easy, but the method will also trigger an emergency cell door to block the hallway path. How close are you to disabling that? Soon? Hopefully ‘soon’ is someplace between one to two minutes--AAGH!”

         Batsman was, all of a sudden, pulled away without warning which caused him to cry in surprise. He turned his head and saw that it was that newbie hero reeling him in like a fish with that...that moronic _plunger_ attached to his head! Blimey, it was harder to pull himself off than it was with his bat!

         A small smirk came to his face.

         “Wow,” Batsman said, preparing to swing once he was close enough to him, “tough bloke, aren’t you?”

         “Yep!” Sure, it hurt to talk now because of getting hit, but he couldn’t just leave Batsman hanging. He had a feeling Batsman was going to hit him once again, so once the Brit was reeled closer, LarryBoy ducked and whipped his head, the plunger, and Batsman sharply in one direction, sending Batsman sliding across the floor in great speed; however, LarryBoy turned his head again in order to grab the baddie before he had a chance to crash into anything of importance.

         Batsman, of course, was upset. “Bleeding heck!”

         “Language,” he shot at him.

         Instead of paying attention to the costumed bloke, Batsman called, “Whisperer!! Disable the rest of the security systems! Do it now!”

         Immediately, the loud sound of a machine shutting down echoed throughout the bank building, capturing LarryBoy’s attention. Yikes, that was kinda creepy…

         A continuous, high-pitched beeping made itself known soon after, coming from down the hallway which led to the vault. While the hero seemed confused, Batsman knew that his dear partner unlocked the vault.

         “Hey, Larry.”

         He looked to him.

         “There’s a reason why I’m wearing a visor,” Batsman confessed, smiling as he lifted up a small ball with a smiley drawn on it. “You’ll find out in a second.”

         The next thing LarryBoy knew, he saw nothing but white and heard loud ringing in his ears. Second time in a month that he’s been blinded! He seriously should invest in a gas-proof, blind-proof mask of some sort. What happened anyway…?

         Something rammed into his gut, causing him to topple over instantly in the blindingly white room. Although it was muffled here on out, he could hear Batsman speaking.

         “You put up a good fight, but I seriously need to go. Farewell, LarryBoy! And may this experience shape you into a better hero!”

         “No no no no no…” he murmured weakly. He couldn’t let him get away, but...he couldn’t see, could hardly hear, and he struggled even more to move. LarryBoy demanded his body, “Get up, get _up_ …!”

 

 

         “You know,” Batsman said out loud, knowing that Whisperer was listening to him, “I feel bad for knocking him around like that, but...this comes first. I’m tired of those guys threatening to let the fuzz know we left Cambridge just because they were sore at me.” He approached the hallway entrance while he ignored the sounds of the temporarily blind hero in the lobby. From where he stood, he could see the vault door partly open thanks to Whisperer’s neat little toy that was on the input pad.

         He sucked in some air and took a step forward…only for a cell door to slam down in the middle of the hallway. “What…?” He looked up at the ceiling. “I thought you disabled everything. What’s this?”

         “ _It won’t go down. I can’t do it._ ”

         Oh, he was talking into the little earpiece now. Batsman adjusted the black piece sticking in his right ear. “You can’t? But it’s just like the one at the front of the hall! How could it be any different from it?”

         “ _I don’t know, Batsman_ ,” Whisperer replied in all honesty. “ _This is possibly a back-up that they have hidden elsewhere._ ”

         “Are you telling me the truth?”  
         “ _Yes I am_.”

         “Lower the gate, Whisperer.”  
         “ _I said that I couldn’t_.”

         Batsman peeped out of the hallway to check on LarryBoy. He was still struggling to see and even stand; however, Batsman had a gut feeling that this state was going to stay much longer. “Whisperer,” he repeated, “lower the _gate_.”

         “ _I’ve already told you that I couldn’t two times, Batsman_.”

         “And _I_ said to lower the--” He caught himself before he could snap at his partner and then tried talking again, “...okay, okay, let me try to be personal with you for a quick moment before LarryBoy tries coming after me again with those plungers…” Batsman cleared his throat, then he said, “I told you that I wanted to pay them off by tomorrow, because they’ll send someone after me if I don’t. Yes, I admit to hurting Larry, but he was getting in the way of the money. I had to! He’ll be fine! Please lower the gate, baby.”

         “ _I can’t_ .”  
         “Stop fooling about and lower the gate!”  
         “ _I can’t, and I won’t_ !”  
         “So you _are_ doing this on purpose...! Listen, if you don’t lower this gate right now, I’ll--”  
         “ _You’ll what? Break my non-existent legs with your bat?_ ”  
         “I’ll do something worse if you don’t lower this gate! I need this money!”  
         “ _...get your money elsewhere._ ”

         “Whisperer,” Batsman was practically foaming at the mouth about how ridiculous and _pointless_ Whisperer’s refusal was, saying to the stubborn partner, “you have no idea what you’re doing--”

         “Well _well_ ...looks like you’re cornered, _Batsman_.”

         He spun around, and there was LarryBoy. One eye was closed but the other was wide open, and glaring right at him. Even though the hero was hit thrice with his bat, he was aware that LarryBoy could still get him.

         “Luck is on your side, LarryBoy,” Batsman chuckled out with a faint grin, “because Tech Whisperer is a joke and refuses to listen to me because I’m dealing with you, so...I think I’ll be going.” He whipped out the last flash bomb he had on him. “Farewell for real!”

         LarryBoy groaned, “Not again--”

         All was white again for the superhero.

 

 

         He shook his head clear yet again, but this time, Batsman was nowhere to be found. The vault, though open, didn’t appear to have been touched thanks to the cell gate which was still up. He exited the hall and still didn’t see Batsman.

         “Oh, I should tell the mayor about this…” LarryBoy dug through his utility belt until he managed to find the communicator. He pressed the call button.

         “LarryBoy! How’s everything?”  
         “Fine now…”  
         “You...don’t sound like it. Are you injured?”  
         “A little, but, that’s not important right now. Tech Whisperer has a partner named Batsman who was trying to rob the bank. Looks like Tech Whisperer knows how to turn off everything so they could break in. He could even see what was going on through the security cameras…”

         “Mon dieu, that’s strange…” Mayor Blueberry commented.

         “Batsman ran off though since Tech Whisperer didn’t want to listen to him. No money was stolen, but two computers were damaged in the process. Could ya send the police over? I’m at the first national bank...”

         “Of course! I’ll have an ambulance over to treat your injuries as well.”  
         “Thanks, Mayor.”

         The ended the conversation, leaving the hero to his own thoughts until his eyes trailed to the counters. Looking at those two smashed computers made him cringe. Poor things. Well, he had enough money to pay off the damages what with him being rich...it’s just that he never wanted to cause any damage upon anything...or anyone.

  


         Saying that Montgomery was furious would be an understatement, and Alfred certainly knew that; however, when the persimmon called him, asking him to drop by the hotel he’d have to leave in the morning, his intuition told him not to go. He couldn’t keep away, though, it wasn’t easy! Montgomery was the only folk he knew...and he was the only friend he had in his twenty-nine years of being alive. That’s why, after a difficult drive through the streets which were covered in patches of snow on his motorcycle, Alfred climbed up the single flight of stairs and knocked the door of room 2013.

         Alfred’s mouth dried up when the door opened.

         “Alfred.”  
         “Montgomery.”

         “I’m really disappointed in you,” Montgomery sighed out, eyes closed. “The one time you allowed me to be the boss, and you didn’t follow my orders when I needed you the most.”

         Alfred could feel his stomach drop when his partner opened his eyes. He could tell how upset he was, how tired he was that he had to go into hiding frequently. Those dark rings underneath his eyes were especially upsetting. “I’m sorry,” he quietly apologised and hung his head, ashamed. “I--I don’t know why I…”

         He was an awful friend.

         Montgomery looked at him and then to the snowy scenery which continued to pile more and more snow atop each other. It would probably be a bad idea to send Alfred off once they were done with their meeting since the roads showed signs of ice…

         ...he could handle it.

         “Alfred,” he assured him with a smile, “I _get it_. You were having conflicted feelings because LarryBoy was there. You didn’t want to see him hurting and felt as though you betrayed your non-existent relationship if you _were_ to let me take the money I desperately needed.”

         Alfred stayed silent, still not looking at him due to the shame rising.

         Montgomery pushed the door back some more, backing up. “Anyway, let’s talk inside and have some tea. It looks cold out there. I wouldn’t want you to catch cold, baby.”

          His head snapped up as he blinked. “Oh, um, alright.”

         Alfred pardoned himself as he entered the single room, unwrapping the red scarf he donned as he did so. Montgomery watched him for a moment, then he turned his attention to shutting and locking the door tightly.

         Montgomery had his cricket bat out.

 

* * *

 

**_Tuesday_ **

 

* * *

 

 

         Larry was able to use a sick day in order to relax and recover from yesterday’s events. He was whacked around pretty well, speaking of last night. A bruised stomach, a side which almost broke, and a swollen cheek...ouch.

         The superhero observed his reflection on the glass door of the cafe entrance, checking out the nasty, bruised cheek. Geez, his cheeks have been getting the most hits lately. Those bad guys must be jealous or something…

         Anyway! Time for some hot chocolate--wait, they’re selling Christmas-related coffee now? Scratch that, time for some eggnog latte!

         He entered the cafe, his cheeks still red from the chilly winter air outside. His brown eyes gazed about the place and noticed quite an amount of folks were here. Well, their service _was_ great, especially with those warm cookies they sold for fifty cents. Then again...their fancy coffees were delicious as well.

         In and out of the line he went, now with a cup of eggnog latte in his possession. Now, where to sit…

         As he glanced around, searching for a place to chill and enjoy the snowy scenery from a window, something caught his full attention. He grinned in an instant and then made his way over towards an occupied table by the window. “Alfred!” As he got closer to the table, Alfred turned to look at him, surprised by his sudden presence. “Hey there--...” he paused, his smile vanishing. “Whoa. Are you okay? You look pretty beaten up.”

         The man in question self-consciously bowed his head about; although he easily failed to cover up the several bandages on his left cheek, the right section of his jaw, his chin, and the black eye. “Oh, I had an accident on my motorbike the previous night...” He smiled a little. “Silly of me, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Alfred. :'B


	5. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Larry makes a new friend; although, something seems to be going on with Alfred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit on the short side, sorry!

* * *

 

 

         A swollen left cheek hidden under a bandage, two other bandages graced his chin and the right portion of his jaw, and a black eye...they definitely looked painful to look at, and Larry knew it would be rude to stare, so instead, he began a conversation.

         “You drove out there on your motorcycle?” Larry tilted his head, frowning at how beaten the Brit across the table appeared to be. “Isn’t that kinda dangerous ‘cause of how icy the roads got?”

         “That’s why I said how silly it was of me to do that.” Alfred took a sip of his simple black coffee, his eyes briefly glanced from Larry. “You, though…” he noted, “you look rather banged-up yourself, Larry.” Alfred looked to Larry. “Are you alright?”

         He sheepishly grinned. “I was leaving the festival and slipped on the sidewalk and then ran into a pole...cheek first.”

         “Sounds painful…”  
         “It was! I even lost a tooth in the back!”

         Alfred felt a twinge at his chest upon hearing that. “O--oh…” Again, he looked down, this time at his coffee.

         Larry was getting a strange feeling about Alfred and those injuries. Yeah, Alfred said it was an accident from last night, but his behaviour sure didn’t seem like that was the case. In fact, he seemed pretty down upon learning about the lost tooth.

         “Larry?”

         He was brought out of his thoughts, his eyes staring straight at Alfred. The Brit had his head hanging low again, but his eyes met his own. “Y--yeah Alfred?”

         He inquired him, “How do you know my name? Be truthful.”

         Oh.

         “You...just look like an ‘Alfred’. I said that back at Daily Bumble when we met. Remember?”  
         “...could you tell me about LarryBoy then?”  
         “LarryBoy? What about him…?”

         “I mean what he’s like as a superhero,” Alfred explained, “that is, if you’ve ever had a chance to see or meet him personally.”

         Maybe he was trying to lighten the mood or was just curious about Bumblyburg’s hero. Well, it’d be rude to not answer such an innocent question -- just as long as he didn’t blurt out or hint that he was LarryBoy.

         After Larry downed some of his creamy eggnog latte, he began to testify about the superhero, “I’ve met him a few times since I’ve moved here. He’s a pretty nice fella but can kick butt when he needs to.” He added in, “Kinda shy around big crowds since he’s new to the superhero thing, but he’s getting better with the whole ‘social’ thing.”

         “Has he ever been mean to a civilian?”

         “Nah, he’d _never_ want to hurt a bystander or anybody who wasn’t involved with a crime.” Larry paused. “Y’know, I’ve noticed some people think he acts like a kid instead of an adult, but…” with a small, embarrassed smile, he confessed, “I don’t think there’s nuthin’ wrong with that. Just because someone acts younger than they are doesn’t mean they’re less mature in other places or that they should be taken less seriously.”

         Alfred stayed quiet for a moment, but then he inquired, “Did he ever say _why_ he became a superhero?”

         “Well…” Larry’s eyes went off to the window and then to Alfred, telling him in response, “it’s because he got beat-up and robbed while walking home from work. Happened at night. After that experience, he wanted to make sure nobody else had to go through somethin’ scary like that, so he became LarryBoy!”

          _Guilt_ \-- that was what Alfred was feeling right about now. Larry wasn’t like those other “superheroes” which he and Montgomery dealt with in Cambridge. This boy was innocent.

         This was his fault that Larry was sitting in front of him with injuries when he could’ve pushed Montgomery harder away from LarryBoy. After all, _he_ was the boss, not Montgomery; however, he had promised the Brit a go at being boss for a mission. Goodness, it was his fault for even choosing this place to live in! They should’ve simply stayed hidden back at home and harassed those bully superheros until they retired, but then again…

         ...there was more to the story than that.

         “So you could say overall,” Alfred suggested, “he’s blossoming as a hero which was caused by an unfortunate event which happened to him. It certainly makes sense. For me,” he added, “the fact that he didn’t want to see other civilians hurt and chose to take action is admirable.”

         “Well when you put it that way…” Larry chuckled out, grinning at that, “it is! He would’ve appreciated you saying that if he was here right now.”

         “Do you really think so?”  
         “I know so like the back of my hand!”  
         “You don’t have any hands to speak of.”

         He huffed, though it wasn’t from being offended or any other negative aspect, as his grin twisted a little. “I _know_ , but that’s an expression, right?”

         “It is.” Alfred felt a smile tug across his lips.

         “Do you have to work today?”  
         “Thankfully, no. How about you?”  
         “Nah, Boss was kind enough to give me the day off ‘cause of what happened to me yesterday.”

         Again, Alfred felt awful upon being reminded that he was the cause of his injuries just hours ago at the first national bank; however, he had to remind himself that Montgomery could’ve done worse -- that _he_ could’ve caused worse things to occur. He should be thanking God that Larry was, though beaten, healing well. He could’ve been at the hospital, unable to move!

         Larry cocked his head at Alfred, wondering what was going through the Brit’s head. He’d been thinking to himself for a little bit, and it made Larry wonder if he could have said something funny. Did he give him a clue about who he was without realizing it? Oh boy, he hoped not.

         “Alfred?”

         Alfred snapped his eyes back to Larry, coming back from his train of thought. “Yes, Larry?”

         He asked innocently, “Somethin’ bothering you?”

         “Why do you ask that?”  
         “Well, you looked like you were thinking about something really hard.”

         “I...was, actually.” Alfred, at the same time as Larry, took a sip of his coffee as a manner in which to calm himself. He exhaled through his nose. “Montgomery is rather disappointed in me for a decision I made, but at the same time, I didn’t want to follow with what he wanted me to do.”

         “Oh?”  
         “I--I wanted to do the right thing, but, again...Montgomery wasn’t exactly happy with the overall result.”  
         “Oh…is he still upset?”

         Shamefully, Alfred glanced down to his half-drunk coffee and lowered his voice, replying, “The last time I spoke with him was last night, but I have a feeling he probably is.”

         “Was it something you didn’t feel comfortable with?”

         He slumped. “In this case, yes. I--I deserve this treatment, though! I let him down when he needed me the most! He’s the only friend I have, and I don’t want to lose him because I couldn’t bring myself to do what he asked…” Alfred’s eyes went to Larry, continuing, “which is why I had to make it up to him in some way before he had the chance to leave me.”

         Something about Alfred’s behaviour felt off, but Larry couldn’t pinpoint what on Earth it could possibly be. Alfred looked...kinda humiliated, defeated maybe. In fact, he seemed saddened. What should he do? He didn’t want to accidentally hurt his feelings or make his internal struggle even worse than it appeared to be.

         “I wanna be your friend.”

         Alfred blinked. “What…?”

         Larry repeated himself, smiling, “I said that I wanna be your friend. I’ll bet’cha LarryBoy would like to be your friend too! Now you’ll have _us_ if anything happens!”

         “Oh,” Alfred blinked away the stinging intensifying in his eyes, saying to Larry, “I’ve...had a chance to meet him twice, but...a--are you certain that you would want to be acquainted with me, Larry? We’ve only met once prior to today…”

         “Of course I’m sure!” Larry’s smile shined even more as he said that. “You’re pretty nice!” His thoughts added, ‘ _Besides, I’ve met you tons before now. You just don’t realize it!_ ’

         A short laugh came from him, though it was a little on the frail side. “Well I think you are as well, Larry!” Meanwhile, within his mind, ‘ _Thank you Larry. You don’t realise how much that means to me..._ ’

         “Wanna go somewhere after this? Festival’s closed ‘cause of too much snow.”  
         “...is there another park in this town?”  
         “ _Plenty_.”

 

* * *

 

 

         Alfred soon found himself sitting in the back of a bus with Larry bundled up beside him. If it wasn’t clear already, Alfred wasn’t used to having somebody close to him in such a manner, but here he was. Even though Larry had ‘just met’ him, Larry was getting rather close in the personal space department. Guess he lacked one of his own...

         Suddenly, Larry gasped. “They’re putting up the Christmas lights!”

         “What?”  
         “The park we’re going to! Look straight ahead!”

         “Goodness,” he said upon seeing heavy-coat-wearing city workers stringing the park trees with lights, “I’ve almost forgotten that December’s just around the corner.” When he looked to Larry, he saw that he had tilted his head at the comment. “I’ve been busy with a few... _things_ , so that’s why.”

         “Ohh…” Larry blinked. “I thought it had something to do with your accident from yesterday.”

         “...that too.”  
         “Say, Alfred?

         “Hm?”  
         “What did you do for Christmas back at home?”

         “Christmas? Oh, well,” he laughed gently, bashful all of a sudden, “a lot of the people I knew were fans of the food like the _mince pies_ or a big _Christmas cake_ , but I…” Alfred lowered his voice so only Larry could hear, “I was more of a fan of _mulled wine_ and _Christmas crackers_ . I always made sure I had those two things every year, especially during my _Cambridge_ days. I’d enjoy them by the fireplace while watching Christmas movies.”

         “Why crackers though?”

         “The ones I’m talking about aren’t the food, they’re...well, think of a gift bag that you would get at somebody’s birthday party, except the bag is replaced with a cardboard tube. Typically, there are things like candy, a crown for each cracker, and even toys inside!”

         “Whoa…”

         Alfred nodded with a smile. “They’re nice.”

         Larry shifted in his seat in order to get a better look at his companion, asking, “Are you plannin’ on doing that this Christmas?”

         He hesitated to answer for a moment, but then he finally answered with, “Possibly. This would be my first time not doing it in England though. It might feel odd…”

         “Is it because you’re not with your family?”  
         “I don’t have any...or rather, they don’t consider me as family.”

         Larry faltered. Did his family not like him? Alfred didn’t seem like a troublemaker, so why the possible resentment from them? “Oh,” was all he could say to that.

         “Don’t worry,” he reassured him, “it’s been like that for many years. It doesn’t bother me to talk about it.” Alfred’s eyes looked ahead as the bus approached closer and closer to their destination. “I think it’s because I’m not passive aggressive like they are.” He had a feeling Larry didn’t have a clue what it meant to be passive aggressive, so, he rephrased himself, “They thought I was too soft, too nice to where I’d never accomplish anything or ruin the family name.” A tiny laugh escaped his lips. “I’m not sure where they got _that_ idea.”

         “What’s wrong with being nice though…?”  
         “Some in the world believe that being kind to one another doesn’t matter. My family, for example, believes that.”

         Larry frowned, letting the words sink in. Wow, that wasn’t a good way to think at all. Almost as cold as the late fall air! Unfortunately, to him, it sounded similar to what he heard back at home in Minnesota. From his lap and to Alfred, his eyes went. “Being nice helps people.”

         Alfred glanced to him. “It does, doesn’t it?”

         “I mean, where I was from, everyone knew each other and stuff since it was a tiny town,” he explained, “so I...had to deal with some pretty mean guys a lot until I moved.”

         The Brit’s stomach dropped upon hearing that. Was he bullied? Looks as though there might have been more than the robbery which might have inspired Larry to become a superhero.

         “After moving here, I got to meet a lot of nice people who made me feel better about myself…” Larry felt his voice almost became quiet, so he restrained himself for a moment in case it cracked. “...s--so, being nice helps, especially someone who’s been through a lot--”

         “Because you’ll never know,” Alfred added, “if they were having a hard time beforehand. Right?”

         In an instant, Larry smiled, returning to his normal self. “Yeah! Glad to see someone else feels the same way!”

         ‘ _You have no idea, Larry._ ’

 

* * *

 

 

         After returning to the top of the hill for the eighth time, Larry, which his cheeks bright red, panted out over the squealing children from afar, “You sure you don’t wanna roll down the hill? It’s safe…”

         Chuckling, Alfred replied for the eighth time, “I’m certain, Larry. My face probably wouldn’t be so happy with me if I were to do that because of the state it’s currently in.” Suddenly, he paused. “Isn’t it a bit careless to do that since you’re injured as well? Especially with your cheek being exposed?”

         “Aw, c’mon, it’s under a bandage…”  
         “Still, you don’t want to get an infection if it were to fall off.”  
         “Aw…”

         He offered, “We can come back here once you’re healed. How’s that?”

         “Well, okay. Besides,” Larry sniffed, “I wanna take you around so you can see the lights. Not sure if the tree’s up yet, though. C’mon, this way!”

         Adjusting his grey scarf, he followed him down the worn path and away from the steep snowy hill. Slowly, the two began to see trees which were covered in lit Christmas lights. Even though they were merely multi-coloured lights, Alfred felt himself being charmed by the lovely glow springing from the head of each tree.

         So far, so good. He wasn’t receiving any calls on his communicator nor spotted a spotlight in the sky calling for LarryBoy, so Larry felt especially able to unwind after yesterday night and just “ooh” and “aah” at the awesome lights. What’s best about this was that he got to do it with Alfred, somebody he wanted to hang out some more since the last time they spoke. Larry took a quick look over his shoulder in order to see how the Brit was doing. Just like what he was doing, Alfred was enjoying the light display with a calm smile on his beaten face. Larry’s stomach knotted. He wondered if Alfred really _did_ get into an accident. Couldn’t you get a black eye from a fight? And if it was a motorcycle accident, why wasn’t Alfred hurt elsewhere instead of around his face?

         Alfred bumped into him from behind, causing them both to grunt due to the impact.

         “L--Larry?”  
         “Oh, sorry Alfred. I was thinkin’ about something.”

         “It’s alright,” Alfred replied, assuring him as he carefully backed up a little in order to give him space. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask what it was.”

         “How’d you get hurt?”

         Larry wanted to kick himself again.

         Alfred didn’t seem to realise why he honestly asked that, but instead inferred it to be that he had forgotten. “I was driving on the road until I lost control and crashed into a railing. I awoke hours later in the hospital.” He added, “ _Thankfully_ , my injuries weren’t that bad, so they released me--”

         “But…”  
         “What?”  
         “The black eye?”

         He blinked. “Well,” he laughed lightly, averting Larry’s stare, “I tried brushing my teeth when I got home. The top of the tube refused to open, so I tried using a monkey wrench to open it. Unfortunately, I had the head of the wrench facing _me_ , and…” Alfred showed off his blackened left eye by tilting his head to one side.

         This still didn’t seem right, as believable as that story might have been.

         “Oh.”  
         “I know, I know...it’s a silly story, but it’s the truth.”

         Larry’s mouth formed a tiny line; however, he snapped out of it as soon as he did that. “Well, okay. Sorry about what happened, Alfred.”

         “Like I said, it’s a consequence for driving on icy roads without the proper equipment. At least I wore my motorcycle helmet…”

         Wait.

         Larry pointed out to him, “But your face is really messed up like it got scratched or bruised up! Did your helmet fall off?”

         “No, not at all! It stayed perfectly on me--” Alfred ceased to talk.

         “But,” slowly, Larry asked as Alfred paled, coming to the realisation he might have screwed up, “what made the rest of your face look like that?”

         Alfred was at a loss for words. _God_ , how he wish he had concocted a better story to Larry, but unfortunately, it was too late. But he _couldn’t_ tell Larry about the nasty marks on him! What should he do? Larry was waiting for a response from him, after all.

         “I--I don’t remember--”  
         “Well well! Larry and Alfie! Nice seeing you two out and about on this lovely fall afternoon!”

         Larry spun around to see Montgomery approaching the two from further down the trail. “Oh hey Montgomery! You checkin’ out the lights too?”

         Meanwhile, Alfred felt the urge to get behind Larry which he did the closer Montgomery got.

         “Actually, I was!” Montgomery shot a smile, saying, “I heard that they lit the big Douglas fir last night, so I came to see what it looked like. Let me tell you, Larry...I wasn’t disappointed. Lovely tree it is. It’s down the way I came, if you,” his blue eyes glanced to Alfred who tried his best to avert the stare, “and the handsome bloke behind you decide to check it out.”

         “We were gonna try going there next!” Larry smiled back, but then he paused upon feeling Alfred’s body shrinking against his back. He looked over his shoulder and the smile wiped away. “Alfred?”

         His British friend’s shoulders were hunched, and his eyes were looking elsewhere as his mouth made a very thin line. He could’ve sworn he felt Alfred’s body shivering against him...

         Montgomery raised a brow. “Say, baby...are you alright? I’m surprised the hospital let you out so soon. Those were some nasty marks. Poor motorcycle had to be taken in for serious repair too.”

         “ _Don’t call me ‘baby’ in front of Larry,_ ” Alfred, above a whisper, snapped at his partner.

         “Hey, you don’t have to be rude. What did I do?”  
         “Leave me alone. _Please_?”

         He’s scared, Larry realized that. What should he do, though? Should he try talking to Montgomery so Alfred didn’t have to? Should he excuse the two of them and hurry off before Alfred’s state worsened? What would LarryBoy do in this situation?

         “Alfie,” Montgomery protested, “I didn’t do anything! I just wanted to say ‘hi’ and perhaps suggest one more try in regards to...my situation. Don’t you want to hear me out?”

         Slowly, Alfred’s eyes turned to him. “No. I’m sorry...”

         “Come on Alfie, if it’s because of yesterday, I said I was sorry!”  
         “I can’t do this anymore, Montgomery.”

         Back and forth, Larry turned to Montgomery and then Alfred. “Um…”

         Montgomery wasn’t backing down, even though somebody else was here to witness. “You know, Alfred,” he questioned, “since you and Larry are getting to know each other, have you told him what you did back at Cambridge which was one of the reasons why we moved to Bumblyburg?”

         Alfred froze.

         “Don’t remember, baby? It was late summer of this year when we met Yorkin. He didn’t have a unique name, but he managed to leave _quite_ an impression on us--”

         “ _Stop it_.”  
         “Too bad he didn’t like computers like you do.”  
         “Montgomery--”  
         “I guess it had something to do with mega ‘bytes’ being taken out of him--”

         “You know what?” Alfred raised his voice all of a sudden, “You can _definitely_ forget about me assisting you. You wanted to be a boss so badly, so now you’re free to do just that _on your own_! Go away and leave me alone unless you’re planning on dropping that idea of yours!”

         Good grief, what did these two do? Larry was confused--

         Montgomery wasn’t certain what to say to that as his eyes widened at Alfred’s yelling, honestly surprised by the action.

         Oh, he knew _exactly_ what to do. Alfred screwed him over so much last night, so this would be fitting.

         “You want to be like that, Alfred? I guess you’d better search for a hotel as soon as you can,” he, like Alfred, raised his voice, telling him, “because your house keys won’t work when you get to the house that _I_ got you, ingrate! You’re lucky you’re still my friend after this even though you’re such a bloody _screw-up_!”

         At long last, Montgomery whizzed past the duo with a huff.

         What a jerk! Larry looked to Alfred who shamefully bowed his head, sighing. Gently, he spoke up, “Alfred…?”

         “He’s right,” Alfred breathed out, “he’s absolutely right…”

         Larry leaned his head to one side, his eyes attempting to check on Alfred’s facial expression. The bottom lids of his eyes were lined with red as though he was about to cry but forced himself not to. He frowned, re-positioning himself. “Is…” he asked, “is he really gonna lock you out?”

         The Brit sucked in some air as a mean to calm himself down before lifting his head to its normal position with a weak smile. “I’m afraid so, Larry. That’s how Montgomery can be sometimes…”

         Larry knew what to do now.

         “Alfred?”  
         “Yes?”

         A small smile came to Larry’s face as he offered to Alfred, “I’ve got a place you could stay. Wanna head there now?”

 

* * *

 


	6. It's November 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the time being, Montgomery will give up on Alfred; however, this decision is a temporary one when he's reminded of something which could cause Alfred to come crawling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter, but we're going to hit the good stuff in the next chapter! :B

* * *

 

 

         It was unsurprising to Alfred to see that the bus they were currently on was heading towards the mansion which he had dropped off the town’s superhero almost a week ago; however, he would have to play clueless about the large estate until Larry possibly told him who owned the place. Speaking of Larry…

         Alfred cautiously glanced to his right. Larry was staring out the window, but the Brit couldn’t tell what his facial expression it was. He wondered if, perhaps, Larry was a bit uncomfortable after that encounter with “him” back at that park. Certainly, he wouldn’t blame the superhero for that!

         ‘ _I mean…_ ’ he thought upon realisation, ‘ _the whole confrontation was embarrassing to me. Lord only knows how awkward it must have been for him!_ ’ Alfred sighed through his nose. ‘ _I should apologise as soon as we head inside._ ’

         ‘ _That was pretty scary_ ,’ was what was going on in Larry’s train of thought. ‘ _Poor Alfred._ ’ His eyes trailed up the window until he saw Alfred’s reflection in it, hidden behind his own. ‘ _I’m getting a bad feeling why he looks like that…especially how he was acting around Montgomery._ ’

         If Montgomery truly was involved with or the cause of Alfred’s injuries, Larry was going to have to use his suction cups on Montgomery’s jerk face the next time he tried anything funny to Alfred. Who would’ve thought that friendly lookin’ persimmon he ran into at work wasn’t as nice as he first thought!

         “Oh!” Larry sat up and tugged the pull-string, requesting for the bus to stop in front of his residence. He turned to Alfred, informing him with a grin, “We’re here! Ready to check it out?”

         Alfred made a small smile in response. “I am.”

 

* * *

 

 

         “Honey, I’m home!”

         A quiet laugh came from the Brit before he inquired, “You’re married, Larry?”

         “...nah,” he sheepishly replied to that, “I just like sayin’ that whenever I get home.”

         How weird, did Alfred forget this was where he dropped him off whilst still dressed as LarryBoy? Maybe he forgot. Whatever the cause was for Alfred not subtly asking why he shared a mansion with LarryBoy, Larry was kind of relieved for that. He didn’t really think of a good reason besides “we both live in the same mansion since it’s so big”.

         “Wait.”

         Alfred glanced to him while he shut the door. “What’s wrong?”

         “Do you…” he questioned, “have any clothes?”

         He faltered at the question. “Oh,” Alfred answered and bowed his head a bit, ashamed, “no. All I have is this suit and an extra scarf back at my house.”  
  
         “None at all?”   
         “I left them behind in Cambridge. I was in a hurry.”

         Frowning, Larry mumbled, “Oh.” That’s weird. Why would he do that? Was he running away from someplace? Alfred sure was becoming a mystery to him. All of a sudden, an idea came to him. “Say, Alfred. Did you want to order some clothes from the mall? I can have them send it here as soon as tomorrow!”

         “Really, you don’t have to do all of that for me--”  
         “But for now, you can wear some of mine. I’ve got _tons_ of clothes in my closet.”

         Alfred’s posture straightened from the second offering being given to him. Wear Larry’s clothes? The size difference aside, something about that felt...well, intimate, something which someone and their significant other would do. Then again, this was Larry -- the very same Larry who appeared totally fine with doing all of this for him even though they’ve known each other less than a week. Everything went by fast for Alfred, but the same wasn’t for the superhero in front of him. “I...appreciate it, Larry.”

         Larry beamed a smile. “Aw, it was nothin’! Anyway, how ‘bout you take a hot shower while I get some hot cocoa made. It’ll make you feel better... _promise_.”

         “A--alright…”  
         “If you head up the stairs, the third door on the right is the bathroom. Towels are on the racks in there. Right across from there is my room.” Before Alfred could get another word in, Larry hurried off to the kitchen, yelling back to his friend, “Feel free to pick anything out of my closet!”

         As soon as he was out of sight, Alfred exhaled through his mouth.

         Never would’ve thought he would end up staying at his “enemy’s” house. God, how he prayed that Larry would never find out who he was. He had a terrible feeling that he would feel betrayed to a high degree. Alfred didn’t want to risk it, for -- in all honesty --

         ...Larry was a genuine friend.

 

* * *

 

 

         “Good afternoon, Bumblyburg. It’s November the twenty-eighth. Welcome to BLN at four! I’m Esther Leek as your host once again,” Esther’s voice sounded from the miniature television which Larry had sitting on the kitchen counter as he carefully sat the kettle of water atop the hot stove. “We start off today with an overnight robbery which _almost_ occurred at the first national bank.”

         Larry glanced over at the television while stuffing a gingerbread cookie into his awaiting mouth.

         “According to officials,” Esther reported, “a cricket bat-wielding persimmon who went by the name of ‘Batsman’ successfully broke into the bank with the help of Tech Whisperer who disabled all of the networks and security system for the establishment; however, Batsman soon ran into our very own LarryBoy.”

         “Pff,” he made a tiny sound of amusement upon hearing his superhero ‘guise. “He was a toughy, but I stopped ‘em…” he paused, “well, kinda. Tech Whisperer didn’t pull down that cell gate like Batsman asked ‘im to. I gotta thank him for that, even though he’s a bad guy. Not sure why Tech Whisperer did that to begin with, but…”

         “Two destroyed computers and a few scuff marks later, Batsman retreated without a cent being stolen, and LarryBoy was unharmed.”

         He glanced at himself immediately in a tiny pocket mirror he had in his sweater pocket. “I wouldn’t say _that_ , Esther.”

         “In addition to Tech Whisperer, there has not been any new reports of messages being sent by him, but the police and mayor are urging you to contact them if you do in order to prevent another attempted attack.”

         “I wonder what’s up with Tech Whisperer anyway,” he mused before chomping a leg off the gingerbread man. With his mouth full, he talked out loud to himself, “Is he after money like Batsman is, or does he have something else in mind…” He bit into an arm next. Rest in peace if you weren’t already doing so, gingerbread man.

         His hearing suddenly perked when it captured the sound of running water. Ah, that must be Alfred getting in the shower.

         “AGH!”

         Larry jumped. “Oh...I forgot to warn him that the shower shoots really cold water when you turn it on.”

 

* * *

 

 

         “Blimey, the nerve of him,” Montgomery mumbled to himself over the chit-chat and Christmas pop music blasting as the disgusting feeling of Alfred’s actions last night continued its assault. The pure disappointment of that and how Alfred was today wouldn’t cease harassing his thoughts. Then again, that latter event might have been guilt because of their afterward meeting. He took a sip of his hot buttered rum and then sat the mug down with a soft huff. “I never would’ve believed that he would get attached to a mentally immature guy like Larry, but...there he was.”

          **_Sip._ **

         “I mean,” he talked some more to himself, “the kid’s nice and harmless overall, but I really need that money, even if it means kicking his _cucum_ butt. I wanted to see how tough of a hero he was anyway…” He drank some more since he enjoyed both the taste and the sensation of the beverage making contact with his stomach.

         What was he going to do? It appeared that since Alfred hadn’t tried calling him at home or on their private communicators that his stuffy partner was missing in action. How unfortunate, what with Alfred being critical to this whole “Batsman and Tech Whisperer” business for three years now.

         “I can’t do this job all by myself. I _need_ him if I want those guys to cease with the harassment. How am I going to get Alfie back…” he wondered as he lifted his mug again to his lips. Those guys who shall not be named suggested for their monthly payment to be sent by the twenty-fifth of December which gave him enough time to plan something else, but soon the days will go in a blink of an eye, so Montgomery knew not to play about during these next few weeks.

         No, he was not going to beg Alfred to return to him. He didn’t want to stoop to such desperation. Besides, that was beneath him at the moment. If he wanted to get Alfred back and running as Tech Whisperer, he would probably have to do it by force before the fellas in Cambridge would squeal out his and Alfred’s location to the authorities. It was unfortunate how he couldn’t even think of Cambridge without becoming more annoyed.

         ...Cambridge.

         An idea came to him. “Cambridge,” he said the name out loud in a state of eureka. “Right, Cambridge! Silly me, I even mentioned it at that park earlier. I could still pull that card!” Montgomery downed the rest of his drink by tossing his head back and allowing the drink to pour in while the bar-tender looked on with a cocked brow. “Oh Cambridge, I _knew_ you wouldn’t let me down! I’ll pay my debt to you as well!”

         Said tender questioned out of curiosity, “What exactly _is_ ‘Cambridge’?”

         He sat his empty mug down with a smile. “Well,” he paused in order to get a good look at the name on the bar-tender’s name tag, “Nezzer, it’s a university city in England which I had the honour of graduating from. _Lovely_ time to visit is when they have the Strawberry Festival, to tell you the truth. It’s _art heaven_.”

         “Oh.”  
         “Trust me though, it’s easy to get lost since the Cambridge area is huge. Heck, even though I’m from there, I’ve gotten lost _quite_ a bit! Bit of a downside though is that attending the place is a _wee_ difficult. ‘Serious students only’ -- mind you, I would be using quotation marks with my fingers, but...y’know kind of _can’t do that_.”

         Using his head, Nezzer gestured to Montgomery’s mug as a way to question if he wanted a refill.

         Montgomery shook his head. “No thanks. I can’t have too much dairy in one day.” He asked, “Ever heard of Pimms Number One, Nezzer? You could whip me one of those.”

         “Yeah I’ve heard of them. Just one?”  
         “Better make it four, good man! I’ve got a lot of things to dig up for something, and I need to be as unwound as possible.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “As we approach to the last segment of this hour’s news report,” Esther reported, “the tree lighting ceremony for Bumblyburg Park has been scheduled for December the eighth at seven-thirty. There will be _tons_ of music and entertainment to enjoy before and after the lighting. Be sure to bring your friends and family!”

         Larry sat back against the couch, a mug of hot chocolate in his possession while his brows were furrowed in thought. “I wonder what’s taking Alfred so long. He’s been up there for an hour!” His eyes turned to the living room entrance, still pondering. “I guess he really needed a shower, but...I should go check on him. Don’t want his cocoa to get cold.”

         Off the comfy couch he went, sitting his mug down onto the coffee table.

  
  


 

         “Shoot, I can’t believe I didn’t grab the clothes before I took a shower…” Alfred muttered to himself as he kept the several towels close to himself, entering Larry’s bedroom in a rush. “I spaced out, I can’t believe it.”

         Closet closet closet closet...a-ha!

         He glanced around the large bedroom while making his way towards the sliding door closet as he held the towels tighter. Alfred, once he opened the door, began to browse for something to toss on. _Surely_ , there was a chance he could find an outfit which wouldn’t look awkward on his form.

         ...well, that, and he needed to find something that wasn’t so... _flashy_. He needed to don something calming to him.

         Finally, an item caught his eyes. “A-ha, a sweater!”

         He took hold of the black sweater -- a perfect choice of attire to wear on a cold winter day thanks to how thick it was.

 

 

 

         Larry peered his head into the vacant bathroom. No Alfred here, but...wow, it sure looked clean for someone who just used his shower. He let out a small “phew” by the heat and steam which still lingered in the air and then retreated to the hallway. “Guess he’s looking for some clothes.”

         The sound of his closet door sliding open confirmed that. Immediately, he crept over to his room, noticing how the door was halfway open. “Maybe I can help him find something to wear--”

         Larry froze upon reaching the entrance.

         Without a peep, the out-of-costume hero slowly backed up and went back to the living room, ignoring the sickening twist of his stomach. Oh how he wished it would stop…

  


 

         “I’m sorry for taking such a long time up there,” was what Alfred said as soon as he entered the living room in a thick black sweater. He self-consciously adjusted his monocle before noticing the small, nervous smile on Larry’s face. “Larry?” He blinked. “What’s wrong?”

         Quickly, Larry tried to give him a good answer without worrying the Brit. “Jus’ a little cold. I had to turn up the heater because it got so bad. Ready to have some hot chocolate?”

         Alfred smiled. “Of course. Thank you for this, Larry. I promise I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can--”

         “Nah, you don’t have to pay me back. I wanna help you!”

         The Brit joined him at the couch and was immediately handed a mug of hot chocolate, still smiling until he flinched once his back touched the head of the couch. Before Larry had a chance to ask if he was okay, he laughed it off, saying, “Still a little sore from last night. Nothing to be concerned about!”

         This wasn’t the case though, as Larry unfortunately knew what it was. He couldn’t admit to the man beside him as he enjoyed his drink that he accidentally saw the nasty purple, red, and black bruises on Alfred’s body whilst he changed into that sweater he donned. He just _couldn’t_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “So are you able to get those news reports sent to me sometime soon? I’m willing to pay extra for shipping.” Montgomery sat back against the office chair with his phone cradled against his ear while he listened to the one on the other line. Just in case he became distracted, he spun around in the chair, remote in hand, and muted the television for the time being.

         He perked up in his seat all of a sudden. “December fifth? Well, that’s definitely a lot better that what I expected!”

         Darn, a whole week of waiting, but that gave him at least plenty more days to convince Alfred to come back to him. Hopefully, his plan and Cambridge would work...otherwise, he’d have to force Alfred to return by harsher methods... _as much as a part of him didn’t want to_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_to be continued_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Montgomery would probably not be a delicious persimmon to eat.


	7. Once Upon A Late Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a late Autumn, he arrived home after a day of kicking butt and patrolling the town, but suddenly, as he removed his mask, he felt a presence. He turned around. 
> 
> Larry felt the bottom portion of himself grow colder than the weather, for he knew he was caught in the act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official, there will be two more chapters after this! If you're still sticking around, thanks a bunch for doing that! 
> 
> Stay tuned for chapter 8, since it will be up before (or by) Christmas Eve. :B

* * *

 

 

 

         Night arrived, and Alfred felt himself dozing off at the couch during a viewing party of “Rainbow Brite” with Larry. Once or twice, his head would drop but then he’d awake and readjust himself. Larry eventually noticed the sleepy state of his friend before he yawned. Well, guess it was time to hit the sack.

         “Alfred?”  
         “Mmfh?”

         “I think we should go to bed now,” Larry suggested. “You look really sleepy.”

         “Oh no, I’m--” Alfred yawned, interrupting himself for a second, but then he continued, “still capable of staying up a bit longer. They’re about to play ‘ _Star Stealer_ ’ in thirty minutes…” One more time he released a yawn.

         Larry assured him, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get the movie for us to watch some other time. Besides, I’m startin’ to get tired too.”

         “Oh.”  
         “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room!”

 

 

         Alfred was lead to the second door on the right -- beside Larry’s room. Since it seemed Larry lived by himself, a lot of these other rooms were vacant and being used as possible activity or guest rooms.

         All by himself…

         “Larry?”

         Larry looked over his shoulder to him, responding, “Yeah Alfred?”

         Alfred averted the stare for a moment but then glanced back once he figured out how to deliver the question. “Do you…” he inquired, “ever get lonely living here without anyone else?”

         Larry paused from opening the door, contemplating.

         If he wanted to be perfectly with himself honest, yeah, he _was_ lonely at the house. Nobody to have dinner with, to spend holidays and birthdays with...things like that. The only time he got to interact with others was out of the house, either hanging out with Junior and his family, at work, or as LarryBoy. And even then, the friends he _did_ knew had their own lives and was aware that they sometimes desired to have some alone time with themselves or with close family. Larry, unfortunately, didn’t possess that. In fact, he felt rather... _used_ to it. After all, it was a similar situation back home -- minus the bullying aspect.

         Larry’s descent into silence worried Alfred by this point. Was he lonely like he was? He regretted asking him such a question without considering that possible realisation. For all he knew, the question could’ve hurt him in some mean. It took him a second to find his voice, but soon Alfred spoke up gently, “Larry? I’m sorry if I might have touched a nerve asking that.”

         Larry snapped out of his thoughts. He glanced to Alfred as he made a tiny grin. “Nah, it’s okay. I _do_ get kinda lonely out here, but...I’ve gotten used to it since my Minnesota days.” He pushed the door open, gesturing his guest to his room. “Here ya go! There’s some extra blankets and pillows in the drawer. I’ll get to washing your clothes in the meantime. Cold water, right?”

         Alfred numbly nodded. “And...you might need to wash the whites by themselves.” He looked away and then to him, offering, “To make up for this, let me make breakfast for us, won’t you?”

         He blinked. “You cook?”

         Perhaps it was a sense of Larry acting a bit more like himself or him trying to lighten the mood a bit, but whatever the case might have been a short, heartfelt laugh escaped Alfred as he nodded. “I do; although, don’t expect gourmet-level of food. I’ll make a full English breakfast for us. I haven’t had that in a while.”

         “Okay! Oh, need me to grab a pair of pyjamas for you real quick?”  
         “I think I’ll go ahead and sleep in this, if it’s alright with you.”  
         “Sure, no problem at all!”

         Alfred entered his temporary bedroom. Once more, he turned to look at Larry. “Thank you so much for this, Larry.”

         He beamed a brighter smile to the Brit. “No prob. G’night!”

         “Good night.”

         Larry didn’t have to travel far in order to get to his room, in fact, it was right beside Alfred’s, so the owner of the large estate was already in his room once Alfred shut the door.

         Alfred sighed. A sigh from what, he wasn’t sure. His eyes scanned to the queen-sized bed at the far right corner which had a large grey quilt and matching pillows. Once he got close enough, he noticed the bed was actually covered in plastic as a way to keep the furniture clean until someone came by and needed a place to rest. He wondered if anybody ever came by whilst he carefully pulled the clear plastic cover off the bed and placed it on the floor.

         It didn’t take him long to drift off to sleep as soon as he crawled under the sheets and got comfortable. Today had been a long day, after all.

  


 

         Meanwhile…

         Larry turned on the washing machine after tossing in Alfred’s white top with a sigh. “Poor Alfred. This is worse than I thought.” He left the tiny washing room and headed back to the living room. “How come he had all of those bruises? I know he said it was from the motorcycle accident, but the way they were laid out on him looked like somethin’ else caused them…”

         Good thing he had been watching a few crime shows to notice that.

         He plopped on the couch, pouting. “He was acting scared in front of Montgomery, so...maybe _he_ could’ve done something to him. I don’t get why he would though. Alfred’s a nice guy! It’s not fair to see him beat-up like this…” If he didn’t have to worry about Tech Whisperer and Batsman, he would’ve tried digging a bit into this questionable situation as well!

         “Maybe I should think about something else, besides…” he reminded himself, “I _am_ a superhero. Gotta focus on Bumblyburg whenever there’s an active villain like Batsman and Tech Whisperer.

          Hmm, let’s see...no new reports of Tech Whisperer leaving messages, no sightings of a strange persimmon wearing a visor running around Bumblyburg...what else though?” Larry shifted on the couch, thinking harder. “Is Tech Whisperer even going to warn of another possible hit somewhere before it happens? What if he doesn’t?”

         Hmm indeed.

         “Well,” he said out loud, “I guess I’m just gonna have ‘ta wait and see until there’s some sorta clue.”

         Larry suddenly sat up when he heard his washing machine finishing up its cycle. (Man, that was...unusually quick.) Well, time to dry the top and start on the fancy jacket. As soon as he finished that, he could head to bed.

 

* * *

 

 

_Cambridge University -- what a lovely place it was and still is! This university town seemed to have it all for those who chose (or were selected) to live and study here. For a young man named Alfred, this was also a mean to live in a better environment than the one back at home. At least here did he not have to worry about his family members constantly making remarks about his gentle demeanor and ability to trust anybody. The other choice words were especially harsh, something which he was glad to be away from until someone decided to call him._

_Ah, there it was... **Girton College**! _

_An awed sigh escaped his lips as he stared up at the tall building before him, for arriving here gave him a sense of freedom and hope for a wonderful future._

_“I worked so hard to get here,” he said out loud, not noticing a passersby giving him a brief stare, “but I’ve made it.” He suddenly sniffled but caught himself in an instant. Crying was a no go, especially out in public and such a spectacular environment. The Brit shook his head and then coughed twice to clear his throat from the forming lump. “Now now, don’t be dramatic. You can cry once you graduate, but it’s too soon now.”_

_He inhaled through his nostrils then released the bad air._

_“My class doesn’t start for another hour. Maybe I should head to the garden and relax…”_

_It didn’t take long for the newcomer to find the wide space of healthy green grass stretching for miles upon miles. Of course, a lot of others students of Girton were present. Some sat underneath the large trees, a few were squirrel-watching, and some played a sport activity with fellow schoolmates. The sight gave Alfred a joyful feeling within his chest._

_“Goodness, everyone looks so happy…” Alfred murmured. “That could be me once I’m situated.” His left eye caught the side of the shimmering lake giving him a warm welcome. Carefully, he approached it and peered at his reflection, seeing his amused face upon doing so. “This is the start of a brand new me. I’ll even make some **close acquaintances** while I’m here!” He laughed from the happiness of it all. “I can’t contain myself!” _

 

_Three weeks later, well…_

_...Nothing yet. Perhaps it was his slight introverted body language which caused his fellow classmates not to interact with him outside of saying “hi” while passing by outside of class. He would’ve tried striking a conversation himself, but Alfred struggled with said action. How unfortunate._

_As a new day of academics began, Alfred took a seat at his self-assigned desk with a sigh. While everybody appeared to have become acquaintances in some degree, it appeared he was the only one left out._

_‘ **I guess this is going to be a repeat of grammar school** ,’ Alfred assumed in his thoughts. ‘ **It's expected, I suppose.** '_

_“Well, hello there.”_

_Alfred snapped out of his miniature moping mood when a voice at the right of him spoke up. He immediately turned to see a male persimmon setting down a cricket bat behind his seat. “Are you...new here?”_

_“Long story short,” he responded with a shrug, “I had to get some important surgery done, so I paid some bloke to send me info about whatever we did for that week.” The classmate beamed a welcoming smile at him. “I’m Montgomery. Nice to meet you…” He made a gesture with his head as a mean to urge the male beside him to say his name._

_“Oh, Alfred.”  
         “My...Alfred? It’s rare to have a name like that! It suits you.” _

_“In what way?” Alfred blinked._

_Montgomery, again, shrugged while the smile remained. “Aah, I guess it’s because it seems sophisticated, and you certainly appear to fit the type. I can tell.”_

_He lightly laughed at this. “I do hope you don’t mean that in a bad way.”_

_“Of course not! You don’t seem to be stuffy like a lot of the blokes I’ve ran into at this college so far.”_  
_“...I...hope I’m not ‘stuffy’.”_  
_“From what I can tell just by looking at you, I can assure you that you’re not.”_

_“That’s a relief,” he said._

_“I’ve noticed you’re the only one in here who’s not interacting,” Montgomery pointed out the obvious to him. “I haven’t really been able to click with anybody either, so maybe we could hang out. How does that sound?”_

_Once more, Alfred blinked, though of surprise at the suggestion. “I…” Well, this Montgomery was rather interesting and seemed harmless. Perhaps becoming associates with the other friendless classmate would help both parties. Besides, he liked him. “Alright,” he responded, smiling, “Montgomery.”_

 

* * *

 

 

         The day he and Montgomery became closer in regards to their friendship had a similar scenery like what was displayed outside upon waking up. Grand, another reminder of Montgomery. First, it was the dream, and now the weather condition he could see out the guest room window. Judging by how light the grey sky was, Alfred assumed it was probably ten or eleven in the afternoon.

         Oh _shoot_.

         “I was supposed to make breakfast!” Alfred hopped out of bed. “I hope he isn’t up already…”

         As he swung open the door in order to clean himself up, Alfred stopped mid-run when he spotted a folded pile of clothes which included his attire from the previous day. He lifted the clothing pile into his possession with a smile forming on his face.

 

 

         Phew, so he wasn’t awake yet. This was good for Alfred, for he didn’t have to apologise from embarrassment of oversleeping and not having a full English breakfast prepared for Larry. After all, if it wasn’t for Larry, he had no idea where he could’ve gone after losing his home. Sure, he could call his family as a guaranteed failure of an attempt, but he knew _he would have to deal with said family over the phone for several hours_.

         He...would rather not deal with them, even when he was technically homeless and didn’t have much money on him.

         Thinking about that probably caused him to slump a bit over the stove with a sigh of distress. He didn’t want to burden Larry by staying here, and there was also the fact that this was _LarryBoy’s_ home. Living here longer than a week could become troublesome!

         Maybe the best thing to do at the moment was to calm down, finish cooking, and think about something else for the time being.

         A-ha, there was a little television that sat on one of the counters. Alfred flipped the switch to it and was immediately greeted by the news.

         “This just in,” Esther Leek was on again, breaking in with some news, “civilians have been advised not to be around or be at fifth avenue after an armed suspect has been sighted within the area--” she suddenly paused, staring off-camera at something. “It seems the situation is being handled just as the police are nearing fifth avenue. Bumblyburg’s LarryBoy has shown up on the scene.”

         Alfred kept his eyes on the television, especially after hearing the superhero’s name, while using the spatula to push and move about the eggs as they scrambled. “So _that’s_ where he is, huh…?”

 

 

 

         Having cameras on him as he approached fifth avenue, an area near downtown, was something which LarryBoy was still getting the hang of, for most of his feats were captured off-camera. The superhero, however, knew he couldn’t get himself distracted by the media presence -- not even for a moment.

         There was a baddie who needed capturing.

         When LarryBoy landed on a rooftop, he flinched from the injuries he obtained by Batsman and his funny lookin’ bat. Maybe he was sore? Whatever the case, he couldn’t let them stop him either.

         “Okay,” he spoke to himself as he scanned the area, “one guy. Knocked out the civilian he robbed at gunpoint and is hiding somewhere here. He might run off once the police get closer to where we are. Too bad I didn’t get much of a description about what he could look like…” LarryBoy fell quiet again as he continued turning his direction to every direction. The police should have any escape routes blocked, but one couldn’t be sure if they did it on time.

         Suddenly, he gasped.

         Whispering, he exclaimed, “There!”

  


         Alfred, as he allowed the bacon to sizzle while occasionally moving the meat around, watched in awe when LarryBoy was seen swooping down. The camera, sadly, wasn’t close enough to get a full view on what happened next, but it was to be expected, given the situation.

         “I hope he has a bullet proof vest under that costume of his,” he said out loud upon remembering that the crook LarryBoy was chasing had a weapon on them.

 

 

         “Man, why didn’t I think about having a weapon on me before?” The short scallion thief shifted the hold on the gun once he whipped the pesky blood which was on the handle. “I probably would’ve been more successful than last time.”

         You know, hiding in a garbage dumpster was _also_ another good idea he had rather than simply pushing himself up against the wall. This was one of the comments going through his head as he chuckled, slowly lifting the heavy lid so he could get out of the dump.

         Left, right, left, right went his eyes, checking to see if the coast was clear. Once the scallion knew nobody was around, he scrambled out and landed perfectly with his gun at the side.

         Just as he was about to begin his tricky run back “home”, a voice spoke up, once which made him jump, “You sure have been active lately.”

         The scallion spun around and saw _him_ standing atop the dumpster. “LarryBoy! Don’t you ever take a break?! I could’ve sworn you had the snot beaten outta ya recently!”

         “Yikes,” LarryBoy mumbled at that last sentence, but then he regained his superhero composure, saying, “Heroes take breaks until duty calls...kinda like right now. How about you hand over that gun before someone else gets hurt?”

         “Never!” The scallion prepared himself to shoot. “You foiling my quest for money’s getting really annoying at this point! C’mon, I need to start my Christmas shopping!”

         “You can do that with your _own_ money!”  
         “This _is_ mine, you stupid pickle!”

         “I’m a cucumber--” LarryBoy was cut off when the scallion whipped the gun in his direction and he had to dodge the incoming bullets with obvious urgency.

         Geez! This was the first time a crook used a gun on him! He needed to be extra careful, what with the stake of critical injury being higher thanks to the scallion’s choice of weapon. LarryBoy could’ve sworn he flipped and rolled (okay, so he actually flopped and _sorta_ rolled) several times as he avoided flying bullets, but he needed to push on. Eventually, he was going to run out of bullets, and once he did, LarryBoy knew what needed to be accomplished.

         LarryBoy soon flipped out of the alley and landed onto the cleared street. Gosh, doing all of that was making him dizzy. He shook his head in order to get rid of the sugar plumbs dancing around his head while, huffing and puffing to catch up, the scallion thief joined him out in the open.

         “Dizzy?”  
         “Kinda. Outta bullets?”

         The scallion raised his gun towards LarryBoy once more with a smirk. “You wish.”

         LarryBoy braced himself.

          **_Click_**.

          **_Click click click click_ **.

         As a toothy, sly grin appeared on the costumed hero’s face, the scallion paled from hearing the familiar click of a bullet-less gun. Frantically, the thief dug through his sweater pocket for extra bullets whilst LarryBoy, full of stealth as he did so, aimed a plunger towards him.

         Under his breath, LarryBoy boastfully chimed, “Bullseye.”

         And a bullseye he made of the scallion’s face.

  
  


 

         Alfred watched the grumbling scallion being escorted into the police vehicle on the tiny television with raised brows. Just as he was wondering where LarryBoy ran off, he heard something land on the roof of the house. There was a pause, Alfred waiting for any more sounds to occur. Seconds later, the sound of someone moving across the roof made itself known. Goodness, that was fast! Well, all he had to do was wait until Larry got inside the house.

         Once Alfred made a plate for him and Larry and then took a seat at the kitchen table, the hero out-of-costume entered, tugging his fluffy red sweater over his body as he did so. “Ah, Larry, there you are!”

         Larry let out a fake yawn and then responded with, “Mornin’ Alfred! Did you just get up?”

         He shook his head. “I’ve been up for nearly an hour. Did you sleep alright?”

         ‘ _Actually, I’ve been up since nine-thirty_ ,’ Larry said in his mind. “Yeah, I did. Slept like a baby! How about you?”

         Smiling to Larry, Alfred replied, “I slept fine. Thank you again for this. I promise I won’t stay long.”

         Larry blinked as he took a seat across from Alfred. “Did you find somewhere to stay?”

         Again, the worry of being a burden by staying here resonated in Alfred’s mind. He briefly bit his lip in hesitation, his eyes averting Larry’s curious stare, before he glanced to him. “I was thinking about asking my family for help, or...asking Montgomery for forgiveness so I’ll have my home returned to me.”

         He didn’t like the sound of that second option at all, and he certainly showed it by frowning and pointing out, “But...Montgomery was being really mean back there. Are you sure you wanna do that?”

         Truth be told...no, he wasn’t sure, but…

         He questioned, his voice lowering in volume, “It’s either that, or call my family. I’d rather deal with Montgomery. After all, he had every right to be upset with me.”

         Larry reflected back on how Alfred was upon running into the other Brit yesterday as his eyes went to Alfred’s facial injuries.

         As soon as Montgomery showed himself to the two, Alfred was scrunched behind Larry, shivering, snapping at Montgomery through a feeble whisper upon being called “baby”, and practically begging for him to leave. He was absolutely _frightened_ the whole time until the Brit tried telling Montgomery enough was enough -- him being tossed out of his own home soon followed. If there was a correlation with that exchange and Alfred’s injuries, then Larry really didn’t think trying to contact him would be a good idea.

         Montgomery was a bully.

         “I…” Larry spoke up, gentle in his tone, “I don’t think you should go to Montgomery, Alfred. Somethin’ about all of this doesn’t seem right.”

         Alfred lifted his head, now realising he had it bowed. “What…? Wh--why not?”

         He averted Alfred’s stare. “I’m gettin’ a bad vibe from him is all.” Larry shot his eyes back to Alfred, explaining further, “I--I mean, he...reminds me of some of the people in Minnesota, back when I used to live there.”

         He didn’t know what to say in order to defend Montgomery from being compared to a bully. He simply couldn’t find the words! Perhaps it was because what Larry was saying was right, but still...a portion of him didn’t want to leave Montgomery, even when Larry assured him that he’d be his friend as well. Montgomery was the first one to ever get close to him, and it would’ve been a shame if their three-year friendship ended on such a sour note!

         Noticing Alfred’s struggle to respond, Larry tried talking again, “Alfred...you don’t have to leave if those are your only options. I don’t mind you livin’ here with me at all!”

         “But...w--won’t I be an inconvenience to you?”

         Larry, upon looking at Alfred, saw the image of the bruises on the Brit’s body flash by his vision. There was a chance that, maybe, caused him to shout nervously, “No, you won’t! Please don’t see Montgomery! He might hurt you again!”

         Alfred dropped his utensil, eyes widening from those words.

         Shoot, stupid Larry! Why did you have ‘ta go and blurt that? He began to mentally kick himself as, on the outside, he stammered, “Um, I’m...g--gonna go eat in the living room.” He arose, grabbing his plate in the process. With a shaky breath, Larry looked at Alfred one last time. “Thanks for making the food, Alfred. Let’s order dinner tonight. M--my treat.” He absconded before the Brit had a chance to say anything, or rather he couldn’t due to shock.

 

 

 

         He shouldn’t have said that. For all he knew, he might have been wrong about Montgomery harming him even when his instincts told him otherwise. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Alfred went back to Montgomery and got hurt in the process. After all, he was LarryBoy -- superheroes wouldn’t turn a blind eye towards something like this, especially if they experienced something similar to what Alfred went through. LarryBoy -- or rather Larry -- was one of them who did.

         ‘ _I feel so bad for bringing that up_ ,’ Larry thought as he shoveled the rest of the scrambled eggs and bacon into his mouth. His eyes gazed to the kitchen from his seat on the couch and then returned to the television. ‘ _I need to apologize…_ ’

         “Is...there room for one more?”

         Alfred’s soft voice grabbed his attention in an instant, causing him to face the direction of the kitchen to see Alfred standing there, fiddling with the yellow sweater’s hem he wore with a weak smile.

         Larry displayed a similar smile. “Of course!” As soon as Alfred took a seat beside him, he immediately spoke, “I’m sorry about what I said, Alfred. I didn’t mean to--”

         “I can really stay here?”  
         “...y--yeah! You’re my friend, and I know you’re really struggling, so...please stay?”

         Alfred looked to him with glassy, wide eyes, but the smile remaining on his face. “You don’t know how much this means to me, Larry. Thank you.”

         Larry worriedly frowned. “Are you gonna cry…?”

         He shook his head both as a way to respond and to force himself not to get all weepy in front of Larry. Goodness, _that_ would’ve been embarrassing. “I have something in my eye. Nothing to worry about!”

         Sure, that was a lie, but Larry played along whilst a smile returned. “Whatever you say, Alfred.”

         This was how Larry and Alfred began to live together. What about the secrecy of Larry being LarryBoy? Wouldn’t Alfred find out? Well, thankfully, Larry was way ahead of that situation. Everything related to LarryBoy was -- and had been -- hidden elsewhere. Going down a secret tube behind a large bookshelf on the first floor would take him to the “LarryCave”, where his costume and weapons were awaiting for him and hiding from the newcomer who became a permanent resident.

         Starting the following day, Alfred left the house at ten in the morning after making a moderate breakfast for Larry and himself. “I have a job as well, you know,” Alfred had explained to him. “I install security cameras and other equipment like that.” Larry, meanwhile, went back to his janitorial duties at Daily Bumble. Both parties returned around the same time via bus since neither of them possessed a car and had dinner courtesy of Alfred or the occasional pizza delivery. This happened the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day.

         Of course, there were moments when Larry would have to excuse himself during their movie night or arrive home late due to his “side-job”. Luckily for him, Alfred never questioned what was going on and simply said, “Alright” with an understanding smile every single time.

         Like a lot of secrets, though...they’re revealed on accident.

 

 

         It was a peaceful night on the fifth of December…

         “Well, so far so good,” LarryBoy commented as he looked down at the city below one last time. “Guess my weekly patrol’s over.”

         “Hey! Excuse me!”

         He gasped at the familiar voice shouting. LarryBoy lifted his head and there, from a building across from the one he stood on, was Batsman. “Batsman!”

         The visor-wearing persimmon grinned at him in an oh-so-charming manner. “Glad you remembered me! Hey, so I saw you dealing with a guy who had a gun and you left the scene unharmed! Tell me something, was I quicker with my movements than he was? Because I’ve been practicing my swings, so I might be even _better_ now!”

         LarryBoy hollered in question, “What do you want, Batsman?”

         He quirked a brow, the grin refusing to leave his face. “Well, since you asked…”

         The superhero watched Batsman carefully moved his cricket bat over the edge of the building he was on. Batsman released it, but instead of the sport equipment plummeting below, the bat floated in mid-air. LarryBoy, again, gasped from surprise. Batsman hopped aboard the hovering bat and made his way toward LarryBoy. The movement was slow, but still LarryBoy couldn’t help but gulp, wondering what the baddie was planning on doing. All of a sudden, Batsman stopped two feet in front of him, still in the air.

         “You know,” Batsman spoke at normal volume, “I like you, LarryBoy. You seem to be genuine at what you’re doing. Cambridge needs fellows such as yourself over there since it's been occupied by fake heroes.”

         “Cambridge?” LarryBoy blinked, raising a brow.

         “It’s a shame that I’m going to have to fight you since you won’t let me get some money from one of Bumblyburg’s fine banks.” He shrugged. “Then again, I’ll get to fight someone as sneaky as you are which should be fun.”

         “Keep away from the banks, Batsman,” LarryBoy commanded him.

         All Batsman said to that was a simple sigh, saying, “Fine, fine. Could you at least tell me how Alfred’s doing?”

         He froze.

         “What?”  
         “Alfred! You know, the stuffy Brit who’s been staying at that huge house with you and that handsome cucumber.”

         Slowly, LarryBoy frowned. “How...did you know about Alfred?”

         But Batsman didn’t answer the inquiry, but instead chose to change the topic. “Pardon me if my breath my smell a bit off. I’ve had...one too many Pimm’s Number One recently.”

         “Um, that’s...fine?”  
         “Oh, one more thing before I go!”  
         “And what would _that_ be?”

         “Now,” Batsman shifted himself on the hovering bat, saying, “tell me if you’ve heard this expression before, but-- **_play ball_ **!”

         “What--?” LarryBoy was rudely interrupted when he felt himself getting whacked off the building from the side, causing him to cry out. He hurriedly shot a plunger at a building to catch himself on time, but when Batsman began to fly after him, LarryBoy knew this was going to turn into some sort of chase.

         Well, time to give chase _and_ fight back.

         Whenever Batsman swung the extra cricket bat he had on him, LarryBoy was certain to swing back, right, left, or down in order to avoid the heavy wood striking him. From a civilian’s point of view on the street, they witnessed their town hero swinging backwards and forward with his very tough plungers whilst a strange persimmon swung madly after him with a funny looking bat. Once or twice, LarryBoy grunted upon being hit at his sides; however, he focused on his opponent and used a plunger and shot it at Batsman’s flushed face which made him yelp upon impact.

         Muffled, he yelled, “Bloody heck, I can’t see! Are you bleeding serious with these bleeding plungers?!”

         “Phew, that was quick…” LarryBoy commented on how soon he caught Batsman--

         Immense pain shot throughout LarryBoy’s nose and extended throughout his head as he let out an agonized yell. Without realizing it, he and Batsman crash landed onto another building’s roof. Through the groans of the costumed superhero, Batsman successfully forced himself out of the plunger’s hold, though his face stung from the suction.

         “ _Ooouch_ ,” he made a grunt at the sight of the superhero's current state, “sorry, but you were asking for a good hit in the nose with the handle of my bat. I’m hoping that will keep you out of commission for a while. Catch you around, love.” He struggled up, got back onto his hover bat, and then fled the scene.

         “Oooh, ouch ouch ouch ouch…” LarryBoy murmured weakly. He sniffed once and then two more times. He wiped at his nose with the top of his costume with absolute caution, for he felt something warm underneath it. When he allowed for the clothing to go back in place, he paused. “...uh oh.”

         There was a large blood stain staring back at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         As soon as LarryBoy landed on the roof of his house, he shook his head to clear his fuddled mind. He sniffled whilst his eyes glanced about, wondering what to do now. He didn’t want to worry Alfred by wobbling into the house in such a state, so the other option was to head down the cellar, clean himself up in the LarryCave, and then return to Alfred after a brief breather. Yeah, that’s a good idea.

         Using his plungers to lower himself to the ground from the roof, he couldn’t stop sniffling from either the cold, his bleeding nose, or both. “My head and nose hurts…” he complained out loud...and for good reason.

         LarryBoy came to a halt, landing softly on the snow-covered ground that was his backyard. Ignoring how shaky he was, he removed his dear mask as he walked around the corner and--

         “Larry…?”

         Larry froze. Alfred was standing there, bundled in a scarf and one of his winter jackets with a mortified look on his face.

         How could he have forgotten so soon?

         Alfred told him just this morning that he was going to be home late tonight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_to be continued_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? It's going to get a bit dark. Oops.


	8. Hazy Shade of Winter...well, Autumn, actually.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relationship grows stronger after a not-so-secret secret has been revealed; however, there are other secrets which Larry is unaware of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me use one more Bangles song reference before this story ends. :B

* * *

 

 

 

         “Larry…?”

         Larry felt the lower portion of his body grow cold at the voice saying his name. Through a bit of a daze, his eyes looked ahead...and there was Alfred worriedly looking at him from the pathway to the house.

         “Oh no,” was all he could say to being caught.

         Alfred, meanwhile, felt his heart pounding a mile a minute, speaking louder in volume from panic, “Larry…?!”

         Oh no, he was getting dizzier by the second. Must’ve been his body reacting to his poor nose’s current state. He wobbled in place while he struggled to keep his eyes open, watching Alfred hurry towards him. Larry could taste the disgusting blood which dripped into his mouth as he slurred out, “Alf--fred...it’s not what you...think...”

         Alfred couldn’t have been more relieved when he made it just in time to catch the injured hero into his hold. He felt Larry’s forehead press onto his shoulder whilst he carefully removed his scarf. He was going to need to sacrifice it in order to assist Larry and his damaged nose. “Please hold on,” he whispered.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “ _Rockin’ around the Christmas tree_ _  
_ _At the Christmas party hop,_ _  
_ _Mistletoe hung where you can see,_   
         Every couple tries to stop,” the ever so familiar song from Brenda Lee was the first thing Larry heard as he weakly opened his eyes with a groan escaping past his lips.

         Already, he could tell he was indoors since what he saw upon being conscious was the ceiling. Larry adjusted his body and soon realised he was on the living room couch. He turned his head in order to get a look around. Alfred wasn’t in here…

         Oh.

         He moaned, “Oh no...I think he saw me.” Larry sniffled as he pulled the blanket closer to his face. “What am I gonna do if he _did..._?”

         “Larry, are you up?”

         Larry took a sharp intake of hair through his nose, freezing in place again. He moved his head toward the direction of the kitchen. Alfred was there with a washcloth that was pulled together by the ends to produce a makeshift ice pack. “Y--yeah, I am…”

         Just as Larry attempted to sit up, Alfred frantically exclaimed, “Wait, don’t move! You need to keep yourself there for a while!”

         He pouted. “ ‘kay.”

         “Thank you.”  
         “...how long have I been out?”

         “Almost an hour,” he confessed as he approached the couch. “The good news is that your nose isn’t broken after your encounter with an unknown foe. I could’ve sworn your mask had a nose guard.”

         The ‘f’ word was the main thing which grabbed his attention. “ ‘Foe’?”

         ...crap.

         Larry watched Alfred apologetically smile as he placed the cloth filled with ice atop his nose. “S--so you...know then?”

         “You’re still wearing the uniform under that blanket,” Alfred gestured to the coffee table and then continued, “and your mask is over here.”

         His stomach was flipping every which way while he followed the direction where Alfred’s head pointed to. There was his dear LarryBoy mask, looking a bit banged up after Batsman pestered him. “Oh…” it was weak, but he muttered that anyway.

         This was a big rule in the “Superhero Rules”...never let anyone see you without your mask on, and never allow anybody to know who you are.

         Alfred knew he was LarryBoy.

         Larry whined out, “Oh no…” and pulled the fluffy blanket over his face. “Alfred? Please don’t tell anyone about me being LarryBoy! Please!”

         Alfred frowned at how upset the superhero became, but after a moment of conjuring of what to say next, the Brit carefully pulled the sheet away from Larry’s face. He had his eyes clammed, but Alfred chose not to force them open -- what with that being a bit rude. “Larry…” he started, “I would _never_ tell a soul about this, not only because of everything you’ve done for me, but also because we’re friends. And besides...

          _I already knew who you were that day you met Montgomery_.”

         Larry’s eyes popped open as he gasped. “R--really…?”

         Alfred nodded, sighing through his nose.

         “So you knew me ‘n’ LarryBoy--”  
         “ ‘LarryBoy and I’--”   
         “--were the same guy?”

         Again, the Brit nodded in reply. “I _swear_ I kept it to myself when I realised it...and I still will.”

         Larry had a gut feeling Alfred wasn’t lying as he searched his face for any sort of falter which would tell him otherwise. Of course, he didn’t find one. He sunk deeper against the couch as he felt his lips form an assured smile and mumbled, “Thank you Alfred.”

         “No problem at all, Larry. Now,” he told him, “you should rest here for a few more minutes. You can get up, change, and take some ibuprofen afterwards. Are you hungry by any chance?”

         “Jus’ thirsty and achy.”  
         “The ibuprofen should help with the latter, so I’ll go and make something to drink for us.”   
         “ ‘kay.”

         Larry kept his half-lidded eyes on Alfred as he wandered back to the kitchen. He exhaled a large amount of air through his mouth since he was afraid of causing his nose pain from doing that. “Wow,” he said to himself, “Alfred’s really sweet…”

_“Could you tell me at least how Alfred’s doing? You know, the stuffy Brit who’s been staying at that huge house with you and that handsome cucumber.”_

         “...but…” Larry fell quiet, remembering Batsman’s words from earlier, “...is Alfred hiding something too though?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         The short scallion thief absentmindedly whistled to himself while relaxing on the cell bed. Thankfully these gullible police officers weren’t ridiculous enough to have the heater off, for it was far too cold this December night. Typically, he would’ve been peeved from being caught by LarryBoy; however, he knew he wasn’t going to remain here for long.

         “Hello love!”

         He immediately sat up to see his visitor. “There ya are! I thought you said you’d be here by yesterday!”

         Montgomery, if he had hands, would have waved at that, but instead, he shrugged. “Sorry. It took me a while to dip some money out to get you out of here...um...what’s the name you go by?”

         “Just call me Trey. _Actual_ name’s a secret.”

         “That’s fine, ‘Trey’.” He then commented, “While they’re processing the bail money, I’d like to tell you that using a gun was pretty gutsy. You know you would’ve gotten killed if you pulled that stunt on the police, right?”

         Trey rolled his eyes. “Ki-i-i-i-inda the reason why I did that with LarryBoy and _not_ the cops.”

         Suddenly, the door to Trey’s cell slid open, causing Montgomery to raise a brow from amusement upon the scallion immediately stepping out of the dark cell. Montgomery, without another word, gestured Trey to follow him out of the building.

         As soon as they were out the double doors, down the flight of concrete steps, and at the park entrance across the street, Montgomery finally spoke up, “I know you didn’t get to hit him with one of those bullets, but thanks for trying anyway. It’s the thought that counts, Trey.”

         “Tell me again why you wanted me to get ‘im,” Trey demanded, still confused. “Was it to keep LarryBoy off-duty for a while?”

         “You would be correct with that guess! I need him to take a break for a few days. I’m planning something with my partner but it’s impossible when LarryBoy’s out and about.”

         “Ohh. Guess we could’ve gotten away with robbing someone for once if he’s out of the picture... _temporarily_ out of the picture, I mean.”

         He glanced away for a second and then returned the stare to him as he inquired, “What about the other two? Can one of them try pestering LarryBoy before the seventh comes along? I wouldn’t recommend you trying since you just got out of jail. They might make you stay there longer if you’re caught.”

         “Duri will do it,” Trey answered. “Boss Scall didn’t want to do anything else besides that ‘delivery’ you were talking about over the phone.”

         “That’s fine! What is Duri good with?”  
         “Smoke and pepper bombs. He also has sprays for smaller environments. He’s also pretty fast at moving around.”   
         “Lovely.”

         Trey suddenly changed topic. “Say, you look a little ruffled. Were you messing around with LarryBoy before you got here?”

         Montgomery huffed out a brief laugh. “I would be lying if I said ‘no’. I’m not sure if I managed to cause much damage for LarryBoy to avoid his superhero duties, but...we’ll see. Duri’s going to be backup if he recovers.”

         “I see you also had a taste of his plunger on your face. Not a good feeling, huh?”  
         “You can say _that_ again. I’m going to look silly with an obvious circular mark on my face tomorrow morning...”

         It was the scallion’s turn to scoff. “How do you think _I_ feel? I’ve had that happen to me plenty of times!”

         “Anyway,” Montgomery advised him, “we should split. I’ll call your group tomorrow.”

         “Got’cha. Thanks for letting me out of there. I actually _want_ to be out of jail during the Christmas season.”

         “Thanks for helping me out with my cause,” he said just as Trey began his trudge home, taking an apparent shortcut through the park in order to get there.

         It didn’t take long for the Brit to find himself alone.

         He inhaled through his nostrils whilst stretching in place. “Well,” he announced, “time to get the care package ready. I’m _certain_ this will lure him back. Thank God the fifth got here sooner than I thought...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         As Larry happily gulped down a cup of peppermint tea, he heard Alfred ask, “How are you feeling?”

         He sniffed twice as he moved the cup away from his mouth, glancing to the Brit beside him on the couch. “I feel great,” he replied, sounding nasally however. “Thanks for taking care of me, Alfred.”

         Alfred beamed. “Glad I could help!”

         Larry made a goofy grin in response, but all of a sudden, Batsman’s inquiry returned to his thoughts which made the smile falter. Before Alfred could ask what troubled him, Larry questioned innocently, “Alfred? Can I ask ya somethin’?”

         He raised a brow at this abrupt change in mood, but still he nodded.

         “Do you know somebody called ‘Batsman’?”

         Alfred’s stomach flipped in an instant. Through a paling demeanor, he answered with, “Batsman...he’s a ‘Hero Corrector’ from Cambridge. I’ve met him a few times. Why?”

         “He was asking about you for some reason.”  
         “Really…?”   
         “...what’s a Hero Corrector?”

         “Well, it’s...simply a term that he coined years ago,” he explained with a gentle sigh. “You see, in Cambridge, the superheroes we had weren’t...really ‘superhero’ in nature. They were corrupt, abusing their powers in order to get what they wanted. Eventually, they only responded to anyone who paid them large sums of money. They responded less and less to crimes committed...the list goes on.

         One day, a new superhero showed up by the name of Batsman. Batsman, out of costume, was mugged several times without one of the many Cambridge superheroes to save him. He was, with good reason, _disgusted_ with the heroes who lived in Cambridge, so he decided to become a ‘Hero Corrector’.”

         With scrunched brows, Larry nodded and continued to listen to Alfred’s explanation.  
  
         “He said that his purpose was not only to be an actual superhero since the others were incompetent to do it, but he would also fix the situation by facing the ‘heroes’ head on. Batsman soon recruited that ‘Tech Whisperer’ who was on the news a few times, and, together...they dwindled down the numbers of heroes who basically became bullies to Cambridge.

         The last time Cambridge heard of Tech Whisperer and Batsman, they faced someone called Yorkin from Yorkshire. That was a few months ago.”

         Alfred glanced to his lap briefly and then returned his eyes to Larry.

         “Tech Whisperer was like me at first. He had difficulty asking for assistance...which ultimately caused him to get stabbed by an attempted killer when he became too scared to call for help even though it happened at a party. He didn’t think anyone would’ve helped regardless.” The Brit laughed a light tone as he added with a wink, “ _Bystander Effect_ was the reasoning. Besides that, he ran into one of the ‘superheroes’ after the accident. He immediately asked him if he had money on him before he would help him out while he bled profusely.”

         Larry was now frowning at the story. So, Tech Whisperer and Batsman shared similar reasoning to becoming heroes like LarryBoy -- minus the bully superheroes. And Alfred...he was scared of speaking up. That’s what he said, right? All he could say next was a tiny, “Oh…”

         “That’s...everything I know,” he confessed to Larry. “Like I mentioned, Larry, I’ve only had the honour of meeting Batsman a handful of times. If what you’re saying is true, then the actual Batsman and Tech Whisperer could’ve moved here for reasons unknown.” Alfred arose as he took his and Larry’s empty cups. “I was thinking these were copycats, but my assumption was wrong. Imagine that!”

         Well, it definitely wasn’t a copycat and his buddy running around as Batsman and Tech Whisperer. The Batsman he faced earlier mentioned about both Alfred and Cambridge. That could be something personal that he wasn’t aware of.

         It was time to change the topic, for Alfred’s behaviour seemed to have grown quiet as he wandered to the kitchen for more tea.

         “Alfre--...” Larry paused suddenly since he had a feeling Alfred wouldn’t hear him, so he hopped off the couch, placed the ice-filled washcloth over his nose, and then approached the kitchen in a calm manner. Alfred was at the sink, pouring hot water from a kettle into the two cups, his back towards Larry and the kitchen entrance. He cleared his throat which captured Alfred’s attention. “Alfred,” he asked, “there’s gonna be a Christmas tree lighting at Bumblyburg Park...y’know, where the Fall Festival was? I was wondering if you’d go there with me...i--if you don’t have to go to work, I mean.”

         What a way to ask! It felt as though he was being asked out by the superhero. Alfred couldn’t help but lightly laugh, responding, “Of course I will! It would be an honour, especially if it’s you asking me this.”

         Larry’s silly grin returned. “Great!”

         “Now, I have something to ask of you as well.”

         Larry was handed his fresh batch of tea as he nodded. “Sure!”

         “You’re…” he started, “not going to go out there as LarryBoy tomorrow, are you? I’m concerned about your nose.”

         “I have a sick day I could use for work,” Larry answered truthfully, “but a hero never rests, Alfred. I’m just gonna have ta cover my nose and take some medicine when I start hurtin’.”

         Alfred perked up. “Oh!”

         “Yeah?”  
         “ _I_ could help with that!”

         Once and then twice did Larry blink at Alfred’s declaration. “Really?”

         He was smiling brightly from ear to ear, nodding as well. “I could build you a special mask real quick if you’d give me an hour to an hour and a half so I can gather the items I need for it. Once I’m done, I suggest you go to sleep. How does that sound? It’s the least I could do.”

         Yet again, Larry had a goofy grin on his face, his eyes sparkling as well. “Alfred, you’re _awesome_.”

         “Ohh, stop it. You’re making me blush…”

         And so, for the remainder of that night, Alfred and Larry sat in the living room, patching together a safer mask for the hero in purple and yellow, chatting and watching whatever was on the television. As he watched Alfred enjoying himself whilst slipping the tough plastic material at the mask’s nose area, a small smile spread to his lips.

         Gosh, Alfred was so nice. He didn’t have to do any of this, but...here he was. He treated his nose, he was adjusting his mask, and he kept the secret of him and LarryBoy to himself. He felt lucky to have run into him almost three weeks ago. It was funny how the two of them seemed to “click” so quickly, but perhaps it was meant to be.

         “Larry?”

         He blinked. “Huh? Was I asleep?”

         “I don’t think you were,” Alfred replied along with shaking his head, “unless you sleep with your eyes open.”

         “I...don’t _think_ I do.”   
         “Alright then. Come here, let me see the mask on you.”

         Larry scooted closer to the Brit as the mask was presented for him to slip on. He bowed his head and then felt Alfred slip it over his head. Upon sitting up straight, he could feel the bridge and front being covered by the plastic-like material; meanwhile, his nostrils were left uncovered. He had to breathe, after all. Wait, was there cushioning too? It sure felt like it…

         Alfred inquired, smiling, “How is it?”

         Larry beamed back with a grin. “ _Perfect_...just like you.”

         A dark shade of red spread across his cheeks. “Larry, go to bed.”

 

 

* * *

  

 

 

         The following morning arrived…

         “Larry?”

         He looked up from his delicious breakfast over to Alfred who sat across from him once again. “Yeah Alfred?”

         “I know it’s rather late for me to say this, but,” Alfred paused briefly and then continued, “I know you have a lot of money, and yet you don’t seem to own a car.”

         Sheepishly, Larry laughed, his eyes moving elsewhere. “Yeah...that’s ‘cause I can’t drive. I’ve tried a few times, but I get really nervous behind the wheel.”

         He frowned. “Oh, I understand.”

         “Aw, c’mon don’t worry. I’ve been like this since I was a teen. Besides, Bumblyburg has buses, trolleys, subways, and even taxis to help me get to and from places!”  
         “...perhaps...I could be of some assistance with that as well. The fear of driving, I mean.”

         Within seconds of hearing the offer, Larry’s eyes shimmered and a wide smile appeared. “You will? Thanks Alfred. You’re so helpful!”

         Alfred attempted not to acknowledge the fluttering which began to occur in his chest but instead replied with a smile, “What are friends for? We’ll do it when you feel a bit better.”

         “ ‘kay!”

          **_Knock knock knock_ **.

         The two got up in unison, saying, “I’ll get it--”

         “I’m closer to the door, Larry,” Alfred said, “I’ll get it for you.”

         “ ‘kay.” Larry suddenly paused and then scooped a fork full of scrambled eggs. “Oh! I think that might be the clothes I ordered for you!”

         Well, considering he’s been mostly donning Larry’s clothes these past few days (which awkwardly fit his body), the thought of having his own attire made Alfred go to the front door just a bit faster than if he wasn’t certain who could be at the door this sunny Wednesday morning.

         Quickly, he adjusted his dear monocle and then tugged his black sweater just in case it rose during any movement from moments ago. Once he knew he was presentable, Alfred opened the door and saw a handsome delivery-scallion with a package in his possession.

         The scallion spoke before Alfred had a chance to do so, “Well, good morning. Does someone by the name of ‘Alfred Asparagus’ live at this address?”

         Hm, he’s British as well. Small world. “Why...yes,” he replied, “that would be me.”

         “Then I believe this package is yours! _All the way_ from Cambridgeshire, England.”

         Alfred’s eyes furrowed and his demeanor dropped upon hearing the location of the package’s origin. “I beg your pardon? Did you just say it came from Cambridgeshire?”

         He smiled. “That’s correct.”

         Something about this seemed off to Alfred; however, he still took the package from the delivery man whose name was “Juan” according to the name tag he wore on his brown uniform. “Th--thank you, Juan.”

         His eyes looked into Alfred’s as he responded simply, “You’re welcome, Alfred. Have a Happy Christmas, won’t you?”

         That uneasy feeling worsened as, in silence, Alfred watched Juan walking back down the trail to where his delivery truck waited for his return. He bit his lip and then gazed down at the package, the nervous bundles in his stomach intensifying as he backed up and shut the door.

         “Wow, that delivery guy was handsome,” Larry’s voice suddenly sounded right behind Alfred, causing the Brit to jump and turn around. “Is it your clothes? The box looks kinda small though…”

         Alfred shifted the box in his hands, examining the address stick which took up a large portion of the box’s top. “You ordered them from the mall, right?”

         “Yeah?”  
         “...then this definitely isn’t a box of clothes. It came from where I used to live…”

         Larry tilted his head to one side. “You talkin’ about Cambridge?”

         He nodded in reply. “I...think I’m going to open this in my room.” Alfred glanced from the box and to Larry, announcing, “I’ll be right back.”

         Although he nodded with a small “okay”, as Larry watched Alfred hurry up the stairs, he couldn’t help but feel suspicious about that page…

         ...well, that and the scallion guy with dark eye-shadow seemed familiar.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Alfred stared at the box on his bed, biting his lip. Should he really open it?

         “I should open it…”

         He immediately grabbed the end of a packaging tape strip and pulled it back, causing the flaps of the box to fly open. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he leaned in to see what was inside. Again, his eyebrows scrunched as he pulled out and earpiece which was the first thing he saw.

          “Why...is this in here…?” Alfred placed the piece in his right ear, and then he continued browsing the contents that appeared to be buried under colourful tissue paper.

         It didn’t take him long to see the other items, though, for they violently ripped a frightened yell from him and fall backward onto his bottom. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel his eyes stinging from tears, but he would soon get distracted by a voice talking into his earpiece.

         “ _Good morning, Alfie! I see you’ve got my early Christmas present._ ”

         He blinked away his tears in rapid speed as he breathed out, “Montgomery...why are you doing this?”

         “ _Baby, I told you we needed to do one more mission so we could end our Hero Corrector crusade_ ,” Montgomery replied. “ _The national bank hit failed, so we’re going to try things a little differently. I’ll be taking the reigns again, and you’ll partner up with me -- otherwise, I’ll let the secret out about you, Tech Whisperer, and Yorkin._ ”

         “But--”  
         “ _Alfred, I swear I’ll do it. Transform and open your window. I’m right outside with that wicked flying bat you made for me._ ”

         Try it, just one more time.

         “Montgomery,” he lowered his voice, since he feared of Larry overhearing, “please, let’s do this somewhere else.”

         “ _The nearest city is two hours away. Why not just do it here?_ ”   
         “I really don’t want to do this--”

         “ _Alfred!_ ” As Alfred flinched at the yell, Montgomery continued, “ _I’m not sure about you, but I’m tired of having to deal with the mafia every bleeding month! Don’t you know they’re threatening to do the same exact thing I’m doing to you if we don’t pay them off? I’m pretty certain we’ll get prison time. If you care about me and keeping your Tech Whisperer position a secret especially from Larry, then you’ll open your window right now and come with me!_ _If you’re still going to refuse, then look in that box again for a quick reminder why you_ **_shouldn’t._ _Do you understand?!_** "

         This wasn’t the same Montgomery he spent three years with. He must have been stressing out a lot over the constant bribing of the mafia. What else could be the cause of this behaviour he’s displayed lately…?

         “Alfred, are you okay up there? I thought I heard you scream...”

         It was Larry, voice full of worry which made Alfred to choke out a shaky sigh.

         As he removed his monocle and placed it upon the bed, his eyes went to the window and then to the entrance of his room. “I’m...sorry, Larry.” He reached for a specific spot on his earpiece which would transform him…

         ...into the Tech Whisperer.

  


 

         Larry carefully arrived to Alfred’s bedroom. Right away, he noticed the door was wide open, giving him access to enter -- which he did. He poked his head in

         ...and didn’t see the Brit.

         “Alfred…?” He tried calling out anyway, “Alfred? Where are you?” As he entered further into the room, Larry noticed that the window was wide open and the unknown package from earlier was sitting upon his bed, open to anyone. He took a peek inside, and what he saw made him mildly confused by what he found; however…

         “I have a feeling,” Larry murmured, “that something really _is_ going on with Alfred…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_to be concluded_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one chapter left! Thank you to anybody who's made it this far.  
> Final chapter should be up by Christmas Eve at the latest.


	9. Did You Hear The One About Tech Whisperer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the most wonderful time of the year! really though, that special time of the year is a grand holiday, so I would like to perhaps participate in a Christmas bash… whenever that could be. Maybe there are some lights which require extra fuel? ;-) - Signed, The Tech Whisperer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time: This was supposed to be finished before or on Christmas, but I had a minor writers block and the length of this chapter ended up a whole lot longer, so...that pushed things back. :B
> 
> Anyway, if you're still here or even new to the story: welcome to the final chapter of "Tech Whisperer"! I hope you'll like it. Also, thank you for reading!

* * *

 

 

 

         It had been an hour since Alfred just...disappeared, and still, Larry couldn’t seem to figure out what those contents in the package were supposed to represent. He sat it aside on the coffee table for a moment and then picked up Alfred’s discarded monocle, frowning deeply.

         “Where’d you go, Alfred?”

         Maybe he should go over everything which led up to Alfred's unexpectedly going missing.

         Larry allowed his body to fall back against the couch and began to think out loud, “Alfred got a package from Cambridge all of a sudden, he went to check it out in his room, he screamed, and then he was gone…” He sighed. “I guess he went out the window, but...did he do it by himself, or did someone _force_ him? Like...somebody who knows him?”

          _“Could you at least tell me how Alfred’s doing?”_

         He shot up.

         “Batsman…?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Where to start looking for him? He only had the chance of running into him twice...the first being at the first national bank and the other not long ago near downtown. Well, he could try searching for the Brit at the bank, but what were the odds of him showing up? As for the downtown encounter, it was more like Batsman found _him_ by chance. LarryBoy bit his lip from frustration.

         So until he could come to a decision what to do, the hero pondered and pondered atop the small, plastic roof which hung over the entrance of Daily Bumble. For the most part, he ignored the stares which were directed towards him by the passersby since he was, again, kind of busy figuring out how to find Batsman and see if he knew where Alfred could be.

         “Well, would you look at that. You’ve got Bumblyburg’s hero on sitting on your building! I finally get to see him in person!”

         LarryBoy broke out of his thoughts when his ears captured a familiar voice from below. He quickly looked down and there was a red scarf and winter jacket-wearing Montgomery and a equally bundled up Bob, both with a big cup of Starbucks. Ugh, Montgomery was a bit of a jerk the last time he ran into him.

         Wait, perhaps Montgomery could assist with the disappearance of Alfred!

         “Oh my gosh,” Bob murmured out loud at the sight of LarryBoy. “ _LarryBoy_ in the flesh…! W--what are you doing up there anyway?”

         Time to put on the hero face.

         LarryBoy explained with a straight face, “Truth be told, gentlemen...I’m looking for someone.”

         Montgomery quirked a brow. “Bad guy, or just a friend?”

         He glanced away for a second but then returned his eyes to the two. “It’s Alfred, Montgomery.”

         “Well well! You know my name? I guess Alfred mentioned me to you the last time you two interacted!”  
         “Yeah, you could say that. Any idea where Alfred could’ve went? What are his usual pit-stops?”

         The Brit took a sip of his hot coffee and then began to list off locations, “Well, there’s ‘Nezzer’s Pub and Grill’ when it comes to eating and drinking, that odd ‘driving field’ for when he wants to practice driving his motorbike, ‘Golden Frog’ was the hotel we stayed at when we first got to Bumblyburg, and...1313 Meadow Street. That was where he _used_ to live until we had a disagreement. I decided to temporarily take care of the house until he decided to come back.”

         LarryBoy frowned at that last part, since what Montgomery said was a complete and utter lie...a rotten one, at that. “...you know,” he pointed out, “you don’t seem to be that worried about Alfred going missing.”

         “I might not seem like it,” he assured LarryBoy, “but I am.” When he noticed the superhero’s frown deepen, Montgomery decided to play innocent and ask, “How did you know about Alfred disappearing?”

         “He’s staying with a friend of mine.”  
         “Larry?”

         LarryBoy froze. How did he know? Did Montgomery overhear his offer to Alfred to stay with him? Or was there something that Montgomery wasn’t telling him. “How did you know?”

         Teasingly, he replied, “ _Maybe_ I know more than you think.”

         “ _What_?” This was feeling a bit suspicious, LarryBoy could feel it.

         Now while this one-on-one interrogation was going down, Bob couldn’t tear his eyes off LarryBoy. He couldn’t put his non-existent finger on it, but the boss felt like he’s seen LarryBoy plenty of times before. _Where_ though? He raised an eyebrow when he noticed the obvious plastic shell which appeared to be covering most of his injured-looking nose, minus the nostril area. Funny, Larry called in this morning saying he busted _his_ nose while shoveling the pathway to his house!

         Hmm…

         “Oh, look at the time!” Montgomery tried hiding his smile as he confessed, “I really need to get going, Mister LarryBoy. I’ve got to finish something before the eighth. You’re going to be at the Christmas tree lighting at Bumblyburg Park, I presume?”

         “Wait,” LarryBoy asked, “what about Alfred? Could you at least tell me about any other places he could be?”

         “Not that I can think about--”  
         “Do you know anything about Batsman then?”

         “Ooh, Batsman,” Montgomery dug into his coat pocket, saying with a hint of amusement, “he’s a pretty brave bloke from Cambridge. Tried to fix up the corrupt superhero community until Tech Whisperer screwed up immensely, and the two of them fled Europe.” He placed a pair of visor-like sunglasses over his eyes. “He wore something like this and swung around a cricket bat. They say if you search for him, he’ll know somehow -- probably because of his dear Tech Whisperer’s help.”

         The “sunglasses” sure seemed familiar, and so did Montgomery after he placed them on.

         “You know something though?” Montgomery decided to push himself even further with the obvious clues he was handing to LarryBoy. “ _I’m surprised you didn’t ask him yesterday night when you had the chance._ ”

         That did it. Nobody didn’t appear to see the hero-to-hero confrontation last night.

         Montgomery _was_ Batsman.

         Bob noticed the intensifying demeanor radiating off LarryBoy and put his thoughts of coincidences on hold. He looked to the persimmon, inquiring, “What exactly are you going on about, Mister Montgomery?”

         All he did was beam a smile as he felt the adrenaline beginning to run through his body so soon, saying, “Well... _he gets what I’m saying_.”

         Within seconds, Bob saw LarryBoy whiz past him with great speed and immediately towards Montgomery whose smile widened before he began to run off. LarryBoy, with the help of his head plungers as a speed boost, swung himself after him.

         LarryBoy turned his head back to Bob, quickly saying, “See ya tomorrow, Bob!”

         And off the hero went, chasing the guy who simply came by to set up the new, much secured computers...and now leaving a very confused boss of the Daily Bumble behind.

         “That...just happened.” Bob took a small sip of coffee before saying to himself, “The way LarryBoy said ‘see ya’ to me sounded familiar.” He eyes shot to where the two ran off. “And if he’s chasing Montgomery...does that mean he’s a bad guy?”

         ...shoot. He could’ve had a criminal install stolen computers or something like that Tech Whisperer could get into and not realize it! God, if only he could kick himself!

         His head whipped to the entrance of the establishment. “...oh boy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         ‘ _Montgomery’s Batsman, Montgomery’s Batsman…_ ’ this was what circulated throughout LarryBoy’s thoughts as he chased the Brit down the street, passing by Christmas shoppers and even a group of carolers during the process.

          Montgomery turned his head around and shouted to LarryBoy, “Glad you figured it out, love! I was starting to worry you’d _never_ catch on!”

         He used the swinging motion of one of the head plungers to force himself to move even faster. “Where is he!? Tell me where Alfred is, Montgomery!”

         The two went around a corner and then dodged the incoming civilians as they continued on their way. Montgomery felt himself slipping on the snowy pavement below, so he quickly whipped out his flying cricket bat from his winter coat and hopped on which gave him an enormous speed boost. He was going to need it.

         Once more, Montgomery whipped his head back, replying over the howling of the chilly air whilst he tore off his scarf, “You’ll find out at the tree lighting on the eighth! It’s going to be absolutely _stunning_!”

         All of a sudden, LarryBoy spotted a scallion pop out of an alley on the left and used the dangling scarf to lift himself up. Wow, strong scarf. He could see that his eyes were shaded by protective goggles. Wait, the scallion was pulling an item from his possession--

         Time slowed down as LarryBoy gasped out, “Flash bomb!”

         Before the annoying flashing device could go off, LarryBoy was swift enough to shield his eyes with the emergency cape he wore just in case. It seemed to have worked somewhat, for he failed to hear much after the loud boom went off. Eventually, he heard the panicked voices of the poor citizens who were unfortunate enough to be nearby when the blinding device went off. His eyelids twitched a bit until he finally forced his eyes open and allowed his cape to swing behind him.

         Unfortunately, Montgomery and his not-so-little helper were gone. Darn that cool flying cricket bat.

         LarryBoy hurried up to one of the blinded civilians who tried to move, telling him gently, “Don’t worry, citizen. Just stay here, and I’ll get you some help.”

         For the time being, he would have to give up chasing Montgomery and try to make certain the innocent bystanders get the help they needed. After all, heroes helped whenever it was required, just like now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “Moments ago, a stun grenade that went off at the corner of Mayflower and Phillip street. So far, there hasn’t been any reports of injuries; however, several townsfolk have been taken to local hospitals as a precaution,” Esther Leek reported. “We will be updating you as soon as we get any more information.”

         As Montgomery turned up the volume on his portable radio, Duri -- the second-in-command of the scallion trio -- tossed his ear plugs, brown jacket, and shades into the dumpster of ‘Nezzer’s Pub and Grill’. Montgomery, hearing this, looked over at him. “You’re throwing your things away?”

         “W--well,” Duri explained with a small stutter at first, “someone might have spotted us, and there’s cameras around town, so--”

         “I understand the first part,” Montgomery replied, “but there’s need to worry about the latter. I’ve got Tech Whisperer on standby with the town’s security cameras. Any footage of us are going to be destroyed before the police have a chance to check them out!”

         “Oh.”  
         “Don’t worry, my payment for you should cover the loss of your accessories. Is four hundred dollars good?”

         He brightened up, especially when Montgomery retrieved a handful of bills from his coat and handed the bucks to him. “Does it ever! Thanks, Batsman!”

         “No problem at all.” The Brit smiled. “Anyway,” he changed the subject, “time for us to disperse. Tell your boss and Trey thanks again for the help _and_ to have a very, merry Christmas, Duri.”

         “You too!” Duri nodded, beaming back. “Good luck with your objective!”

         He watched the scallion take off across the street and down an alleyway, but soon he was brought back to attention by Esther’s sweet voice on the radio.

         “This just in: Tech Whisperer has made contact with another computer user with a message which _seems_ innocent enough not to raise suspicion; however, one cannot be so certain about said innocence of his message.”

         Montgomery’s lips transformed into a different, more amused and smug smile upon hearing this. “There you go, baby. Back to your normal self.”

         “According to the info we’ve just received, the message was sent to a computer at the Bumblyburg council, approximately ten minutes ago. In it, Tech Whisperer wishes to ‘participate’ at a Christmas event. How, exactly, is uncertain.”

         Montgomery nodded to himself before he turned the tiny device off and shoved it into his jacket. No, he wasn’t going to throw away his clothes, for his trust in Tech Whisperer assured him it wasn’t necessary. Besides, he had his flying bat to get him away quickly if he had to escape.

         “I’m getting a bit thirsty,” he said out loud. “Good thing we stopped at a pub and grill.”

         The wind began to pick up without warning, causing Montgomery to shiver throughout his body for a second. He needed to head inside before the temperature dropped even more. As he forced himself to deal with the chilly air whipping his small frame, Montgomery grabbed one end of the scarf, prepared to tighten the fluffy material around himself. Just as he was about to do so, his eyes caught sight of the golden ‘A’ patch stitched into it. A small frown crossed his face, but he quickly shoved the pit of guilt he felt and simply wrapped himself with Alfred’s scarf.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         LarryBoy’s eyes squinted as he read the Bumbyburg council’s flashy-looking computer’s screen.

**_I_** _t'_ **** _s the_ **_m_** _o_ ** _s_** _t w_ ** _o_** _nde_ ** _r_** _ful time of the yea_ ** _r_** _!_ **_r_** _eall_ ** _y_ ** _though, that specia_ ** _L_ ** _time of the ye_ ** _ar_ ** _is a g_ ** _r_** _and holida_ ** _y_ ** _, so I would like to perhaps participate in a Christmas_ **_b_** _ash… wh_ ** _e_** _never that_ **_c_** _ould be. M_ ** _a_** _ybe the_ ** _re_ ** _are some lights which require extra_ **_fu_** _e_ ** _l_ ** _? ;-) - Signed, The Tech Whisperer._

         “He’s talking about the tree lighting event two days from now,” the hero whispered to himself. “Batsman mentioned something about too, so...that _has_ to be what Tech Whisperer means!”

         Meanwhile, the newly hired gourd secretary joined him by the computer. “Um,” he spoke up quietly, “how come the words look funny?”

         LarryBoy turned his eyes to him, asking, “What do you mean, Mister Jerry?”

         “Some of the words stand out more...like the ‘i’ at the beginning, or how the ‘l’ in ‘special’ is capitalized and thick. Y--you know what I mean, right?”

         He blinked and then looked at the screen, planning on re-reading the message. “ _I'm_... _s--sorry_.” LarryBoy raised a brow. “I’m sorry?” He continued searching for more specific letters. “ _Larry_ ,” he whispered as an unexpected twist in his stomach began, “ _be_... _careful_.”

         So, what he inferred was: _I’m sorry, Larry. Be careful._

         But why...why would Tech Whisperer say this to him in secrecy? Was it because of Batsman somehow noticing? Whatever the reason was, LarryBoy couldn’t help but wonder if the straining relationship between Batsman and Whisperer was strained even further? He would’ve wondered about how Tech Whisperer knew his name, but Batsman uttered his out-of-costume name back at the bank.

         This didn’t feel right to him.

         LarryBoy backed away from the computer with Jerry watching him curiously. “Guess I’m gonna go to the Christmas tree lighting.”

         “Is he gonna sabotage it?”  
         “That means ‘ruin’, right?”

         When Jerry nodded in response, LarryBoy replied, “Then, yep. I have a feeling there’s more to the story with Tech Whisperer too.”

         At the moment, there wasn’t much else which LarryBoy could do -- it was up to the police and other security to watch the computers which were associated with the tree lighting since it was a city event. All he could do was prepare himself by any means for tomorrow night. After all of this is over, he’ll be able to get Alfred back…

         ...because he was scared that Alfred could get dragged even further into this.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         After arriving home, Larry slowly opened the door to his house and mumbled, “Honey, I’m home. Oh right,” he continued as he shut the door behind him upon entering, “Alfred’s not here.”

         His sad, puppy-dog eyes drifted to the coffee table. There was that strange package with some rather confusing objects within it. What were those things supposed to represent? Were those things the cause of Alfred going missing? Batsman--no, Montgomery probably had the answer to that and to where Alfred went.

          _“You’ll find out at the tree lighting on the eighth! It’s going to be absolutely_ **_stunning_** _!”_

         Those sad eyes formed, turning into a determined pair as they shot to the grandfather clock which his aunt gave him. It was ten minutes until four.

         “I should get ready. The eighth is gonna be here before I know it.”

 

 

         And so, for the rest of the day and the following one, Larry worked hard within the rather bare “LarryCave” below, resewing his costume to where he could add extra padding in places which he knew would need them. In addition to that, he tried buffering his weapons and any other gadgets he had...which wasn’t much. He’d get a call from Junior or Vicky once in awhile which he would briefly answer and talk to them; however, he would soon end the call with a stammered excuse, for his mind was still worried about Alfred. At this point he had asked for the police for a search for the Brit, but was dismayed upon being told that Alfred had to be missing for more than forty-eight hours -- so LarryBoy was by himself with finding him. Poor Alfred…

         He pushed his chair back from the sewing table with a sigh and then glanced to the cat-shaped desk clock. “It’s midnight…” he murmured, “I should get some rest before the ceremony.”

         After laying out his LarryBoy outfit and gadgets for tonight, Larry cleaned up and prepared for bed. In the back of his mind, he thought it was odd how attached he became to Alfred, but there was something about the Brit which he adored. He was so helpful, sweet, and trustworthy to him. Alfred...was just someone he wanted to have by his side. The fact that he could be getting hurt again was a painful thought; however, Larry knew this wouldn’t last any longer, because Alfred was in trouble and needed a hero.

          _He **was** that hero_.

         He had to be brave even as he worried that something could go wrong even after everything he did. So when he climbed into bed, he gently prayed in a murmur, “God, please let Alfred stay safe. Please?”

         He was gonna have a _pre--tty_ busy night ahead of him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         It was unsurprising that nobody was at Bumblyburg Park at one in the morning, but to Montgomery, this felt oddly peaceful, isolated as he wandered through the park in search of the tree which would become the centre of attention in eight and a half hours from now. As he past by the public restroom, he spotted the top of the decorated tree from afar. Montgomery wrapped the scarf around himself for a second before heading towards it.

         All of a sudden, he found himself humming “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” over the crunching of snow as he approached closer to the tree. Goodness, what a sight to behold! Various of circular coloured bulbs, plush decorations of angels, snowmen, and Santa Claus...all that was missing was the lights being on and the lack of a star at the very top.

         “ _It’s the most -- won-der-ful time...of the year_ ,” He finished the song, now standing in front of the tree which stood erect at a hundred and nineteen feet tall. “Well, hello lovely tree! I hope you weren’t asleep, what with you having a big day in a few hours.”

         He took hold of a blue bulb and then allowed the glass ornament to return to its comfy embrace of the tree.

         “I’ve got a busy day too, but I can’t sleep just yet. I’m staying up with my partner until he finishes getting a secure access to everything we need for our hit.” Montgomery’s eyes glanced up, as though he was talking to a tall being rather than a mere tree. “I just wanted to say...I’m sorry if you get messed up during all of this, but...it’s part of the process. Alfie and I need to get this over with and soon.”

         He paused.

         “...speaking of Alfie,” he decided to continue talking to the tree, “I admit that I was working him like a dog these past few days and hurt him, but it had to be done. I couldn’t do all of this without him, after all. Heck, I wouldn’t have made it as Batsman for much longer if it weren’t for him. But then again,” he lowered his voice, as if someone might hear him, “it’s all his fault that we’re doing _this_. He’s going to have to deal with the plan, whether he likes it or not.”

         Montgomery fell silent…

         ...but, once more, he spoke, “Well! I need to check up on Alfie, and then I’m going to bed. I suggest you get some rest, too. Good night and Merry Christmas.”

         With one more glance at the docile Christmas tree, Montgomery strolled away into the late autumn night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Although the main event wasn’t until seven-thirty, the Christmas tree lighting event began to cater to all who arrived by five o’clock with food, hot holiday drinks, music, and other entertainment such as vendor games. It was no surprise that plenty of citizens of Bumblyburg arrived around this time.

         “Glad to see you came out of your office for once, Boss,” Vicky said before scooping a piece of cobbler into her mouth at the picnic table.

         Bob lifted his cup of hot apple cider, replying with a hint of tiredness, “Well, I’ve been a little...um, restless lately. It’s about LarryBoy.”

         She raised a brow at this while her boss drank away. “What about him?”

         He immediately sat the drink down. “He and Larry had the same kind of injury.”

         “...you’re not saying what I _think_ you’re saying, are you--”  
         “It’s too coincidental how when Larry takes a day off, so does LarryBoy typically.”

         But of course, Vicky didn’t believe him. “Maybe you should take a vacation."

         “I _mean it_ though, Vicky!”  
         “Take. A. Vacation.”

         He huffed. “Fine, but that won't mean I'm going to drop my theory about the two of them.”

 

 

         “Larry couldn’t show up?” Laura cocked her head. “That’s funny. He _loves_ coming to Christmas events!”

         Junior shifted on the park bench to look at his friend. “I _know_ , it’s weird.” He explained, “Last time I talked to Larry, he said he had to get surgery for a nose injury he got, so it wasn’t like he didn’t want to come…” The kid paused, rethinking about that statement. “You know, he sounded pretty drained over the phone...like something was bothering him.”

         “...think he’s upset about something?”  
         “I dunno…”

 

 

         Conversations, both personal and not-so-personal, almost mashed together with the preppy Christmas pop music which blared through the large speaker stereos hanging above the small stage by the Christmas tree, and from above…

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         ...and from above, the bright atmosphere going on at Bumblyburg Park could be seen, even a the twelve-story building, right across from Town Hall. Oh, such a happy and bright scene it was; however, as much as he wished he could’ve been down there, having fun with the citizens of this rather innocent city...he could not, for his past was on the line. If he didn’t follow his partner’s orders, what he did would be exposed to...Lord knows.

         He could see his breath as he exhaled through his nostrils before, down-casting his eyes as he did so, he moved away from the edge of the building and further into the darker brinks of it.

         Suddenly, his earpiece blinked a bright green, letting out a tiny chime with each blink. He pressed a specific part of it and allowed the caller to speak.

         “ _How are you doing up there?_ ”

         Silence.

         “ _Baby, can you hear me? I hope it’s not a bad connection because of the weather..._ ”

         Still, he didn’t respond to Montgomery.

         “ _Alfie?_ ”

         For the second time that night, he released air from his nostrils.

         “ _Alfred, you need to tell me how you’re doing, because you’re going to have to head someplace else once six-thirty comes about._ ”

         Mumble.

         “ _What? Did you say something, baby?_ ”

         He snapped in response, “I said ‘ _I know_ ’, and don’t call me ‘baby’ again, Montgomery.”

         “ _What’s gotten your knickers in a bunch?_ ”

         He exhaled an unsteady sigh, wondering if Montgomery completely forgot what he had done these past few days or if his partner was playing games with him in such a state. “Well, I don’t know, Montgomery,” he replied. “Perhaps it has something to do with how you were after the failed bank hit. It might be due to that _lovely_ package you sent to me while I was with Larry.”

         “ _If you continue complaining, I’m going to let out those secrets to Bumblyburg and LarryBoy until you let me in the bank of my choosing...without locking me out like_ **_last time_** _._ ”

         He had a feeling the harshness of Montgomery’s tone, the words, or both caused the sudden ache within the centre of his chest. Heck, he probably felt this way because of what Montgomery said next.

         “ _We wouldn’t have been in this situation if weren’t for you backing down. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Don’t forget who’s also the reason why we’re not in Cambridge anymore. Now get moving,_ **_baby_ ** _\--_ ”

         He ended the conversation before he had to listen to Montgomery for much longer.

         “Hey, folks aren’t allowed to be up here.”

         He winked an eye shut when a flashlight pointed in his direction. With the one eye which could still see, he followed the ray of light and saw a security guard whose face showed through the bundles and bundles of winter clothes.

         The security guard blinked, now getting look of the bloke who appeared to have a warm glow around his form. “Funny, you’re as lit as a Christmas tree, but you look like you’re supposed to be at a fashion show. A--anyway,” he changed the topic, getting back on track, “back to business. How about you come inside? Not recommended to stay out here since it’s gonna get cold--”

         Guess he could blame Montgomery for having to toss a familiar ball with a smiley face drawn on it toward the security guard. Guess he could blame Montgomery that the guard soon yelped from being shocked by the bolts which shot from the ball once it got close to him. He watched the guard drop to the ground onto his side with a sigh.

         He approached the unconscious man’s body, keeping his eyes on him. “I’m sorry for doing this, but…” He could feel his voice becoming weak in volume, and then he bit the side of his lip with great pressure.

         He felt so spineless... ** _pathetic_**.

         “...but I needed to take my situation out on something...as much as I don’t want to.”

         His eyes suddenly caught snowflakes fluttering down. Darn, it was starting to snow again. He should go ahead and head to the second spot early.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         Meanwhile, a French cafe not far from the Christmas event was bustling with folks coming to eat and drink, for the chilly weather made for a wonderful viewing to enjoy from the comfort of a rich environment such as this; however, some chose to venture the tables outside. Besides, there were plenty of televisions hanging outside to watch from as though they were indoors. That, and there were piping hot drinks and food to keep them warm if they truly needed it.

         Speaking of the televisions, they were showing live footage of Bumblyburg Park.

         “Welcome to a special edition of BLN and we’re live from Bumblyburg Park for the Christmas tree lighting ceremony. Once again, I’m Esther Leek, and I’ll be your host for this evening.”

         Montgomery adjusted his winter jacket as he snuggled himself against the outdoor chair. God, he wished he could warm up better, but he would just have to drink hot beverages and wrap the scarf around him tighter. “ _Blimey_ , that was rude of him to hang up on me…” he mumbled as he sunk into the seat more. “I shouldn’t be surprised though. Mum _did_ say if you’re rude to someone, don’t be surprised if they’re rude in response.”

        “As of now, it’s approaching seven twenty-five,” Esther’s mention of the time stirred anxiousness within the pit of Montgomery’s stomach, “and, oh...there’s Mayor Blueberry! Looks like all we have to do now is wait until seven-thirty arrives and then once she has a small speech, the tree will be lit, bright enough to be seen above via helicopter and perhaps even by plane.”

         Montgomery whipped out the tiny pager-shaped device and spoke into it, “Baby, it’s almost time. Get ready. Don’t screw this up for us, okay? I mean it...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         LarryBoy stayed hidden by the edge of the town hall roof, his eyes focused on the park below whilst his heart began to beat a bit faster than normal. “Tonight’s the night,” he said to himself as an attempt to calm himself down. “This can either go as planned or…”

         He gulped.

         “C’mon, Montgomery...show up with Alfred. I’ll take you down. As for Tech Whisperer…” he trailed off. What about Tech Whisperer? Yeah, he caused the escape of 7 not-as-harmful-as-they-could’ve-been jailers, but there was that message apologizing to him personally and suggesting the hero to “be careful”. What should he do with _him_?

         LarryBoy suddenly sneezed, shivering soon after.

         “Oh great,” he grumbled and then sniffled, “I’m gettin’ a cold…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “Well! Good evening, citizens of Bumblyburg!” Mayor Blueberry tossed the end of her fluffy black scarf over her shoulder and then continued speaking on the stage, specifically into the microphone, “It seems the Christmas season weather has come a bit early for our city, which is certainly alright by me. This snowy weather will make this lighting even better, I believe!

         "From me to you: may we _all_ have a blessed Christmas, holiday season, and new year. Let faith fill our hearts!” She spun around to face the switch and then, as soon as she pulled it, the lights on the tree began to glow on, row by row starting from the bottom.

         Goodness gracious, what a sight to behold! Various coloured lights shone, making the humongous tree beam proudly in the evening air whilst the crowd was filled with cheers, “ooh”s and “ahh”s. Wow, the lights were really doing their job, weren’t they!

         O--okay, the glowing kept getting a little stronger than expected. Guess they were warming up still.

         Mayor Blueberry winced, shading her eyes with her fancy fur hat’s brim as she got off the stage. “Ooh, I didn’t think they would be so bright…” she said to one of her secretaries who chuckled and nodded. “A little bit too strong for my taste, but...what are you going to do.”

         Just as the mayor was about to leave the area, something odd captured her attention. Squinting her eyes to lessen the intensity of the lights from bothering her vision, Blueberry leaned closer to the tree.

         There were several metal-like balls with red smiley faces drawn on them.

         She knew right away whose these were. “Tech Whisperer!”

         Several loud “peee”s began to sound from the tree and from different parts of it before anybody could completely register what the city’s mayor just shouted. Louder and louder they grew until--

         One by one, some going off with others as a group, the lights exploded in loud pops, causing gasps and other sounds of surprise to occur. Things only became stranger from here, because as soon as every light on the tree lost its life, streetlamps cracked and burst from a sudden surge of too much energy. While this continued, each and every lamp going out, now  started stirring panic among the public.

         Over some of the panicked screaming as other lights blew out violently, Mayor Blueberry yelled, “What on earth is going on…?!”

         On cue, LarryBoy swooped down and landed in front of her. “Mayor!”

         “Oh, LarryBoy!”  
         “What’s going on?”

         “It’s...it’s…” she paused in order to calm herself, once she was certain she was more composed, she lowered her voice, “I think it’s Tech Whisperer. The strange ball with the smile drawn on it is his product, is it not?”

         He nodded. “That’s what I’m getting. Every place that got a message from him had one attached to their computer. I guess it works on other electrical things…”

         “Well, there were several of them in the tree! Just tucked in there with the bulbs to where you could hardly spot them unless you’ve gotten close enough!”

         Suddenly, the secretary from earlier ran back as she said, “Mayor! All the power in Bumblyburg has gone completely off!”

         “Emergency generators?”  
         “Not working!”

         Wait a minute, if every source of power was out…

         A soft gasp escaped from LarryBoy upon realization about why this was happening. “The message said Tech Whisperer wanted to help out with a Christmas event...like the lights.” He and Batsman were planning on hitting one of the banks again! His face turned into a different, more serious demeanor. “Mayor,” he said to her, “I’ll get the power back to Bumblyburg. _Promise_. I’m prepared this time.”

         With an aim of a plunger from his head to a building by the park, LarryBoy shot off into the night sky.

          _It was time._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         If there had been anyone still remaining at that French cafe, a visitor would’ve noticed the discarded jacket and red scarf at a two-seat table. Where was the owner? Well, he was busy creeping into the nearby bank, cricket bat in hand and donned in his matching cap and jersey whilst his visor blinked quietly.

         “Blimey, look at all of this glass…” Batsman said, impressed by how big of a damage was caused by lights merely shattering the glass they were contained in. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a few blokes had to go to the hospital for flying shards.”

         Batsman took extra precaution about the glass by using his flying bat to hover over the lobby floor and down a short corridor. To his relief, any extra cell gates weren’t up. Boy, if they had because of his partner’s refusal, he and his bat would have another private “conversation” with said partner soon after.

         “This is perfect! While everybody’s freaking out over breaking glass and no energy, that leaves me to getting the money to shut that stupid mafia up once in for all!” Batsman could pat himself on the shoulder right about now; however, he kinda lacked the arm and hand to do just that.

         He felt his pulse beating faster and harder as he closed the distance between himself and the vault door. A tiny grin came to his face upon seeing one of Tech Whisperer’s vault-breaking balls sitting atop the vault’s pin-box. “You've done such a good job this time, baby. I’ll get you extra for it…” he said into his communication device. “Just give me a minute to--”

         His voice died out when he opened the vault all the way.

         It took him a second to find his voice and recover from the shock, but as soon as he did, Batsman confessed, “You know, if I weren’t in the financial situation that I’m in now, I would be _very_ impressed by this.”

         LarryBoy was sitting in the vault with an amused smirk on his face. “Thanks, Montgomery.”

         “Why no problem, _Larry_ …” He whipped out his cricket bat. “Mind telling me how you knew I would be at this one? There are three banks.”

         All he did was shrug, replying innocently, “I spotted ya creeping in here. Easy peasy.”

         Batsman or, rather, Montgomery blinked, taken aback that he had been spotted even after making sure nobody was around when he slid in here, but then he laughed lightly. “Whoops. Oh well, it’ll be nice fighting you one more time.” He added in, “I’m saying ‘one more time’, because Tech Whisperer and I are going to make sure we’ll get our money and end this Hero Corrector bit at long last.”

         “That’s good and all,” LarryBoy questioned, “but where’s Alfred?”

         Ooh, lovely! He asked about Alfred.

         First, he used his eyes to gesture upward but stopped when he was getting a questioning stare from Larry. Guess he thought he was saying Alfred went to Heaven. Nah, he’d never kill Alfred, even after all of this. “How about this,” he offered, “if you can either catch up with me or beat me up to where I can’t stand, I’ll tell you. Don’t worry, he’s alive.”

         “Considering how big of a jerk you were to him,” LarryBoy got up, preparing himself for the bat, as he said to Montgomery, “he _better_ be.”

         How amusing! Larry actually sounded intimidating even with such a voice like that! Montgomery felt a grin tugging at his lips, wishing to form by Larry’s sudden attitude change. He wasn’t moronic to laugh by the pleasure of the sight, but instead, he lifted his bat while he shuffled back, his eyes focused on LarryBoy. “Larry, please listen, I was hard on Alfred, but I’d never push him to the brink of death,” Montgomery assured him.

         “You might not cause him to die, but you’re willing to hurt him.”  
         “ _You take that back_.”  
         “I’m sorry, but I _can’t_.”

         Okay, now LarryBoy was being annoying. Well, time to shut him up. Montgomery finally said in reply, “You know, Larry...it’s not very nice to **_lie_ ** _like that_!”

         Montgomery swung, but instead of ducking to the right, LarryBoy ducked forward and rammed his head into the Brit’s stomach, causing him to gasp out air and fall off his flying bat and then stumbling back twice. He recovered himself whilst he grabbed the flying bat just before LarryBoy lunged toward his form with a yell. The batsman swung at him with the transporting bat, this time successfully striking the yellow and purple-costumed hero’s left side and causing him to crash against a wall; however, LarryBoy didn’t stay down for long. LarryBoy shot up, and Montgomery was on guard to make another hit whilst he backed up hurriedly out of the hall and into the bank lobby. The town hero charged toward him, something Montgomery honestly didn’t expect. He was prepared to strike with one of the bats another time, but--

         --something Montgomery also didn’t expect was for something purple to fly into his face, blinding his vision in an instant. He let out a muffled yelp, struggling to get the...was...this a cape? Montgomery grabbed and tossed material off which relieved him from temporary blindness.

         LarryBoy wasn’t there anymore.

         He quickly spun around, bat raised in defense in case LarryBoy dropped from the ceiling as a surprise move. When he still didn’t see the superhero anywhere in the lobby, not even clinging to the ceiling with his plungers, Montgomery blinked with furrowed eyebrows.

         Montgomery murmured in a confused state of mind, “What in blue blazes…?”

         Where the heck _was_ he?!

         He waited patiently to see if he could hear any signs of LarryBoy breathing or moving about somewhere. After seven seconds of waiting, he decided to check up on his partner. He whipped out his communication device, whispering into it, “Whisperer, turn on the cameras you’ve installed in here. Hurry. I can’t seem to find our hero in yellow.”

         Meanwhile, hiding behind the bank teller counter, LarryBoy listened on to the conversation as he tied a backup cape around himself. Perhaps he could listen on before pulling a sneak attack while Montgomery’s guard was down.

         “ _..._ ”  
         “Whisperer, hurry please.”

         A sigh could be heard on the other end of the device, followed by a question, “ _Shouldn’t you try sneaking to the vault while I activate the cameras? You’re astute at this, aren’t you?_ ”

         “Don’t make fun of me, baby.” Montgomery activated his flying bat and hopped on. “Besides, heading there could be a trap he set for me. Do you have the cameras on yet?”

         There was silence on the other side for a few seconds, something which stirred uneasy in the pit of his gut. What was taking Whisperer so long?! Just as Montgomery was about to question if Whisperer was hesitating for a second time, Whisperer finally announced to him, “ _They’re on. I see him. He slipped into the men’s restroom. He appears to be planning a sneak attack like you’ve assumed._ ”

         “The restroom?”

         LarryBoy paused. He mouthed, “What…?” He wasn’t hiding in a bathroom! What was going on? Also, why did he call Tech Whisperer “baby” like he did with Alfred?

         Montgomery quirked a brow. “Mind telling me where that is? Make sure to speak up.”

         “ _To the far left of the bank teller counter. The men’s is located to the left of that._ ”

         This was odd. Tech Whisperer was lying to Montgomery…

         LarryBoy forced himself further under the counter, but kept his eyes peeled when he heard the flying bat’s humming rising in volume. Ahh, there was Montgomery! He was silently approaching the men’s bathroom which LarryBoy had a clear view of. All of a sudden, Montgomery made the bat hover higher, higher until he dangled himself off the bat with incredible caution and kept his eyes over the restroom. He was planning his _own_ sneak attack.

         LarryBoy, taking the opportunity, crept out from his hiding spot and aimed a plunger at the Brit.

         Montgomery murmured to himself as he whipped out something small from jersey, “Time to make a distraction to lure him out.”

         Montgomery tossed it towards the centre of the lobby and, immediately, the object popped upon impact and caused the shattered glass it landed on to hit the tile floor once more. An eager grin came to his face as he quickly turned his attention back to the restroom, waiting for LarryBoy to appear; however, that never came to be--

         -- because in a flash, he found himself being violently yanked to the floor, detained by a long rope with a plunger at the very tip of it. His flying bat, meanwhile, remained in the air by the gentlemen’s restroom. Of course, he tried to struggle his way out of the grip, but try as he might...he couldn’t be freed. He was captured so soon. Wide-eyed by the realisation that his plan was foiled, his eyes slowly followed the trailed which led to the owner of this rope. It was LarryBoy who was smiling with triumph at the sight of him like this.

         “ ‘Sup, Montgomery,” he greeted him. “Guess I’ve won unless you have something under your sleeve.”

         Now, the fact that he had been caught didn’t lead to Montgomery beginning to seethe without warning, but rather the _cause_ of being caught. _Tech Whisperer_. His mouth, oh how he tried his best to keep it as an impressed smile; however, he just _couldn’t_. The declining smile wobbled away.

         LarryBoy took notice of how Montgomery’s body trembled and his breath rose in volume and speed. He raised a brow at this, wondering if he was okay. Instead of being rude and rubbing in the loss, he questioned him, “Why did you need that money anyway? Tell the truth.”

         He _was_ about to tell LarryBoy about his reasoning behind this, but all of a sudden, he had an idea. If Tech Whisperer chose to lie in order to give the superhero an advantage even after the threat of blackmail, Whisperer was willing to deal with the consequences of his selfish actions.

         It took him a bit to rediscover his voice, but when he did, he laid it on LarryBoy, “Tell you what, love...Tech Whisperer is better at explaining about our motive than I am. He’s actually on the roof as we speak! Alfred’s up there with him.”

         Those last two sentences really grabbed LarryBoy’s attention. “Tech Whisperer’s up there with Alfred…?”

         “Sure is. Go ahead and tie me up somewhere secure since I know you wouldn’t want to leave me here by myself.”  
         “I think I will--”

         “ _But_ …”

         He skeptically repeated with a raised eyebrow, “ _But_ …?”

         All of a sudden, Montgomery was calmer and a weak smile played across his face. “I should tell you something about Tech Whisperer and a bloke by the name of Yorkin of Yorkshire before you meet with him.”

         “Alright, but hurry. Bumblyburg needs its power back, so I need to confront Tech Whisperer as soon as I can.”  
         “Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a bunch.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         All you need to know about the reason I became a Hero Corrector is because Cambridge had nothing but selfish, egotistical brutes for superheroes. After being constantly attacked, I finally took a stand and started fighting back while also taking on the duty which superheroes are _supposed_ to do. For a while, I was by myself, but one day...a friend of mine was rushed to the hospital, almost dying due to extreme blood loss...all because one of those disgusting “heroes” forced him to pay up somehow before he could be taken to the nearest hospital. He could’ve _died_ because of that jerk. This friend and I had a conversation when I dropped by to visit him which soon led to me offering him to becoming a Hero Corrector like me. It took some convincing because he believed he wasn’t “hero material”, but he took the plunge and became Tech Whisperer. I thought he would make a good leader and planner, so I officially gave him the title of boss to him rather than keeping it to myself. I could just be the founder.

         We were both excited to help Cambridge and its citizens, something which the heroes at the time didn’t care for. He was the brain, I was the brawn...not surprising. One by one, we managed to give them a scare or uncover their dirty little secrets thanks to Tech Whisperer’s ability to break into electronic and technological properties and using those things against the “heroes”. Some would get minor injuries, others would come unharmed at the end. Just like the stuff he’s done here in Bumblyburg with the messages and sudden power loss, he did similar tactics in Cambridge. If the place they were planning on striking for their own benefit and has enough computer-controlled or electric-controlled toys to tinker with (such as a bank, jewelry store, retail, the list goes on), then Tech Whisperer used it to his advantage. As for me, I would be the lure so they could follow me to a trap which Whisperer set up. The fake heroes were locked up and more people in Cambridge felt happier because of it. Pretty great, it was. Probably why we did this for three years. However, mistakes are made, and Whisperer made his own not that long ago…

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         “Well, tonight’s the night that we’ll meet Yorkin and teach him a lesson,” Batsman said to a formal attire-wearing Tech Whisperer across the dining booth. “That punk kid’s been starting fights at the pubs for nearly a year and picking on small fry, so let’s show him a thing or two.”

         Tech Whisperer took a sip of his tea and then inquired curiously, “Where and when again?”

         “I overheard him in class saying he was dropping by a bank for some extra money for his trips to a pub further out since they’ve banned him from the ones around here,” he replied. “Those guys are going to have to deal with him next if we don’t stop him. But,” Batsman added with a wink, “guess what. The bank he’s specifically visiting has advanced technology. State of the art security cameras everyplace, computers, controlled gates everywhere if we need to lock him up until the police show up.”

         “Sounds grand! I can’t wait if that’s the case.”  
         “Same here, baby.”  
         “Oh, you and that name again Montgomery. You’re making me blush.”

         Batsman grinned widely. “Aw, there’s nothing wrong with blushing. I think you look cute with one.”

         The tech professional huffed from embarrassment and then went back to drinking his tea while Batsman laughed at the red-faced asparagus.

 

 

         A large pumpkin slid inside the bank once two hours after its closing occurred. Instantly, he landed on his "feet". As his eyes happily scanned the lobby, he adjusted the white rose attached to the furry brown jacket he donned. “Phew, look at that,” he commented through his faint Yorkshire dialect, “not a soul to be found; although, if I do…" he reached behind himself to retrieve a cricket bat from his handmade scabbard and then did a few practice swings, adding in, “I’ll have no problem striking a few balls to get what I need.”

         “Blimey, using your cricket bat as a weapon too? Glad I’m not the only one who thought of that.”

         Yorkin, with his naturally wide yet gentle eyes, followed the source of the voice. A persimmon in a cricket team jersey wielding a bat was leaning against the bank teller counter from his left. “Do I know you…?”

         “If you’ve heard about a bloke called Batsman, then yes,” Batsman replied with a half-smile. “Anyway, the bank is closed. Try coming in the morning, love.”

         “Sorry,” Yorkin said, “but _I_ , Yorkin of Yorkshire, am in need of money for transportation--”

         “In order to travel elsewhere so you can start drinking at pubs again.”

         “...and _how_ did you know that?”  
         “A little friend of mine by the name of _Montgomery_ told me last night. Sorry, Thomas.”

         Yorkin wasn’t blind so to say, so when he heard the name “Montgomery” and then was called by his actual name, he realised who this bloke was. “Montgomery Persimmon!”

         “Nice seeing you too, Thomas Pumpkin!”  
         “So, you’re that Batsman fella. What’s wrong mate? Couldn’t think of a better name?”  
         “It’s a lot better than just combining what you are with the county you’re from.”

         Yorkin rolled his eyes. “I thought it was creative. A lot better than your choice where you just donned yourself in our team’s cricket uniform and made a few adjustments to it.” He suddenly said, “ _Anyway_ , how about I give you some money so _you_ can hop off while _I_ take my required amount? Does that sound nice?”

         He shoved himself off the counter with a grunt as he pulled the bat closer to his body. “There are two problems with what you just said. Firstly, I’m not going to allow you to steal money from here. Second of all, if you want to try bribing me, you need to also bribe my boss.”

         Yorkin blinked while raising an eyebrow. “Your boss?”

         “Tech Whisperer,” was all he responded to that sense of confusion Yorkin displayed.

         “Okay, then if you don’t want any of the money, hop off and let me do my thing.”  
         “No can do!”

         The pumpkin from Yorkshire huffed, rolling his eyes again and then scanned the area around them. Where was that vault? Suddenly, his eyes spotted the giant vault at the far left corner. A sly smile appeared on his face. “Alright, you can stay,” he said to Batsman as he began to approach his destination, “just don’t get in my way for too long, alright--”

         A heavy cell door shot up from the ground, instantly blocking Yorkin from touching the vault. He spun around to Batsman who had followed him over there.

         “Alright,” he spoke up, “you had something to do with this, don’t you?”

         Batsman jokingly hummed in thought before he answered, “Somewhat. _That_ was actually my boss. When you’re in his sights, he’ll make sure you stay still.”

         “...I...don’t see him.”  
         “Turn your head to the right and then look up.”

         Yorkin whipped his head to the direction Batsman said. It was a high-tech security camera staring at them with a green light blinking above the lens. “...let me guess. Tech Whisper’s taking over the camera.”

         “Practically anything that has electrical power or a motherboard that’s in this bank,” he corrected him. “You decided to hit a bank whose owners wanted to make certain nobody attempted to steal their goods ever again after ‘superheroes’ before you did just that for their own personal investment. I assume you weren’t aware of that fact.”

         Yorkin gripped his bat. Blimey, he was gonna have to beat up these two, won’t he? Well, no problem with that. He’s beaten plenty of sorry guys prior to tonight.

         “Unfortunately for you, Tech Whisperer loves places like these...because he can control a majority of items here. He’s going to give you a good scare while I try my best to keep you away from the money.” Batsman grinned to him. “If you want to give up, now is the time; otherwise--” He yelped when Yorkin swung his bat towards his head, but he was quick to duck and then use his own cricket bat and take a hit at Yorkin’s exposed side, causing him to grunt upon impact.

         Batsman flipped a switch which was attached to the breast of his jersey and quickly said as Yorkin recovered from the blow, “Whisperer, you’re on speaker. Say hello to Yorkin!”

         “ _Y--you want me to talk to him? Well, I guess I could…_ ” After clearing his throat, Tech Whisperer spoke to Yorkin, “ _Hello Yorkin, I’m the Tech Whisperer. Are you sure you don’t want to back down and leave? Things are going to get risky from here on out._ ”

         “You sound cute ‘n’ all,” Yorkin simply responded, swinging at Batsman who used his own bat to block the hit, “but you hop off as well. I’m not leaving here without my money!”

         Batsman let out a loud grunt as he and Yorkin began to fight for dominance, pushing each other's bat back until one would lose their grip. “Y--you heard him. Give him a good show!”

         “ _Alright, though it might take a moment, so hang in there, Batsman!_ ”  
         “Fine by me, Whisperer. I’ve done that plenty of times before.”

         The two cricket bat-wielding heroes broke away and then flew forward at each other, beginning the loud, clacking of bats perfectly colliding while the owners yelled and shouted with every strike produced. This soon turned into a dance of trying to hit the other but having it cancelled by his target in the centre of the bank lobby.

         Tech Whisperer; meanwhile, had his eyes switching from his screens to the live footage of his partner and Yorkin. He had to pull out the big guns here, because he had a feeling Yorkin was not the intimidated type. ' _Almost there_ ,’ he thought as he typed one more line of commands. ‘ _Got it._ ’

         A sudden loud cry grabbed his attention. When he shot his eyes to the live feed, he saw Montgomery crumbling to the floor with something dripping from his nose.

         Tech Whisperer cried, “Batsman…?!”

         Batsman only had a second to roll to the side when Yorkin swung his bat down, planning on hitting his head. “Ah--I’m fine, I’m fine…” he assured Whisperer and then inquired Yorkin, “Why would you want to pick up _cricket_ as a sport when you’re big and strong? I admire how much strength you’ve got, but still!”

         Yorkin shot back, “You seem to enjoy swinging your bat around like a sword, why didn’t you take sword-fighting instead?”

         “You’ve been doing the same thing, you hypocrite! Whisperer, ready? It’s getting dark in here, so maybe turn on some lights for us as a starter.”

         Yorkin was suddenly blinded by all of the lights turning on without warning. He could then hear the sounds of computers being activated and the humming of machines. He was about to look back to Batsman, but the persimmon was nowhere to be found--

         All at once, every light shattered, including the ceiling light over his head. Quickly, he covered his head with his vest but was then struck behind the back, causing him to fall and skid across the floor. Yorkin could feel a few shards scratching his front side as he hissed from the stinging pain from just about everywhere. “You’re really...ticking me off…”

         “Yorkin, how about I ask Tech Whisperer to fix us up? You’ve got to drop the robbery plan of yours, though.”

         “I want that money so I can have my drinks.” Yorkin forced himself up, gritting his teeth as he turned to face Batsman. “I’m getting tired of this, so how about you **_HOP OFF_ **!”

         Batsman quickly whispered to Tech Whisperer whilst Yorkin charged towards his direction, “Start playing with the gates. I’m going to run out the emergency exit in the breakroom, and we’ll lock him. Switch the camera when I’m in there!” He let out a fearful yelp and dodged the bat-swinging Yorkin, bumping against a wall in the process. When Batsman was about to move, he felt himself being gripped by the head from behind and then being flung across the floor on the side, forcing said side to make contact with broken glass.

          **_BANG!_ **

         Cell bars shot up or down (depending on their location) in front of the bank teller counters, the windows, doorways, and in the entire middle section of the lobby in unison and continued to do so, making the cells seem like traps for anyone to fall into. Because the action surprised Yorkin and caused him to look around at the sudden change, Batsman flinched whilst he made himself rise and hurry down the hallway beside him. The breakroom was to the left once he approached the end of the hall. Through the increasing pain in Batsman’s face he sighed in relief when he saw the breakroom door--

         “HEY!” Yorkin’s voice boomed without being drowned over the constant bangs of the cell bars. By the sound of it, he was at the other end of the hall. “I’m not letting you leave after all the rubbish you’ve put me through tonight!”

         Well, he never would’ve expected to see gentle giant Thomas Pumpkin seething at him while leftover glass shards dropped from him whilst cuts and gashes decorated his flushed face, his eyes squinting in _his_ direction.

         Batsman had a horrible feeling he was going to get killed if he didn’t use his short stature to his advantage and get the heck out of here. He sucked in some air, feeling his adrenaline increasing by the second as Yorkin began to head down the hall; however, to Batsman, everything was slipping into a universal slow motion. His body turned in a flow, about to run into the break-room as the much larger “hero” grew closer by the second. Thankfully, Batsman knew he could run fast; however, since he played sport-related activities with Yorkin out-of-costume, he was also aware that Yorkin was a bit slower due to much more weight and height to weight him down.

         Batsman bolted into the room, ignoring the thunderous clashing of cell bars opening and closing meanwhile. He knew Tech Whisperer was focusing on him with the security camera attached to the ceiling, so thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for the emergency exit door to be unlocked by his partner. As soon as he felt his body bursting into the night air and the door slam behind him, time returned to its average speed.

          **_BANG!_ **

         The cell bars slammed one more time and then stopped.

         Bleeding from his tiny, triangular nose, Batsman allowed himself to slump up against the door and slide downward until his bottom touched the cold, wet ground while trying to catch his breath. “Blimey! I almost died back there…”

         Funny enough, Tech Whisperer wasn’t going “good show!” or “I’ll call the police right away” over the earpiece or the device still clinging to his messy jersey. This made him confused. Perhaps he was busy caging Yorkin up into one area? Who knows.

         “Yikes, we did a lot of damage to that bank,” he huffed out, feeling guilty. “Do you think your parents might suspect something’s up if you borrowed enough money to pay for the damages?”

         Silence.

         He blinked, brows immediately knitting together. “Whisperer?”

         Breaths, nothing but barely audible breaths were responding to Batsman.

         The breathing was picking up in speed all of a sudden and trembling.

         “Hang on, I’m coming,” he announced as he whipped out a grappling hook, aimed for the roof of the four-story building, and launched the hook with success. Once Batsman knew it was secure with a few tugs upon the hook latching on, he released the lock and flew up to the roof within a matter of seconds. He could hear...wheezing? What on earth…?

         He landed on the roof with a grunt, temporarily ignoring the painful sensations running through his body. (He needed to check on Whisperer first, _then_ he could get himself patched up.)

         Under the glowing green curve which merely surrounded the top and sides of his tall form, Tech Whisperer was frozen as he stared at a single screen in front of him with widened eyes. His cool visor was even dismissed, uncovering the brown eyes from hiding. His teeth were chattering rather loudly, meanwhile.

         “Whisperer?” Batsman, from the other end of the roof, cautiously approached his partner, calling his hero name again, “Whisperer??”

         When he was close enough, Batsman noticed how much the lower portion of Tech Whisperer’s body wobbled as though he was about to give out from standing this entire time. Pale was his face, and his eyes were watering.

         “Whisperer? Baby? What--”

         Finally, a sharp gasp through his teeth came from Tech Whisperer before he began to scream at whatever he was observing. These screams which scared Batsman at first made him think Whisperer was simply acting funny; however, as tears started pouring from his wide eyes, Batsman leaned beside Whisperer in order to see what could be causing such a hysterical reaction--

         Oh, how he wished he hadn’t have seen that.

         Whisperer, it appeared judging by the live feed of the break-room, witnessed a gruesome end to Yorkin. The Yorkshire man, perhaps, tried to move faster, or he lost momentum...but either way, he was caught up by one of the cell bars...and appeared to have been crushed to death. Tech Whisperer saw before and after it happened.

         This realisation along with the screams turning into uncontrollable crying was what influenced Batsman’s stomach to twist endlessly as he pulled the taller male into a comforting hold. Instantly, he felt Whisperer’s hot tears through his jersey upon burying his face into Batsman’s shoulder.

         “No, no, no, no, no, no…” he was whimpering out that single word as an incantation to the accidental murder. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it…! I swear I didn’t mean for him to…!”

         A pang in his chest upon hearing his boss and partner sound so distraught caused Batsman to whisper gently in his plug-less ear, “I know you didn’t, baby. I know. Shh-shh-shh...we should get out of here before things get worse. Let me take the reigns for a bit. I promise everything will be okay…” He shushed once more as the sobs from Tech Whisperer became worse. Lord, how all of this hurt.

 _Never_ did they expect such a serious thing to happen during a routine…

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         LarryBoy was quiet after Montgomery finished his tale; however, he soon chose to talk, saying, “That sounded like an accident...”

         “I know, I know,” Montgomery responded, “but, for all we know, he could have intentionally caused Yorkin’s death. He later told me that Thomas was the one who stabbed him.”

         “...so _that’s_ why that newspaper talking about Thomas Pumpkin was in that 'present' you sent Alfred?”  
         “Along with the attire similar to Yorkin being in there, and a container full of pumpkin mush.”  
         “Was that...Yorkin’s?”  
         “Of course not!”

         The hero bit his lip. “Why did you send it to Alfred, though? What does he have to do with Tech Whisperer and Yorkin to begin with?”

         Still didn't get it. What a pity. All he said was, “Just ask Tech Whisperer when you get on the roof. I suggest you use your plunger to yank the visor off him, though. He can’t see anything but whatever is displayed on them, so make use of the advantage you have. Simply aim at the earpiece sticking out like a sore thumb and pull.”

         LarryBoy carefully pulled him off the floor and glanced around for a good place to keep him detained until the police arrived. A-ha, one of the cubicles should have a chair he could use! “I’ll take your advice to heart, Montgomery. I’ll make sure you’re comfy while I talk to Tech Whisperer.”

         A feeble huff came from Montgomery as he was pulled over to a cubicle and then had additional rope tied around him and an office chair he plopped on. “Let me guess: I’m going to prison once you’re done.”

         “You'll find out.”  
         “Aah, to be expected. At least the mafia won’t find me that way.”

         LarryBoy looked to him. “Mafia?”

         “Tech Whisperer and I had to leave Cambridge when, apparently, one of the superheroes saw the two of us running away from the bank after Yorkin’s unexpected death,” he explained and bowed his head, avoiding the stare. “I had connections to a small mafia group, so I had him cover up where the two of us went to; meanwhile, Whisperer broke into an airport computer, got us two one-way tickets to America...and here we are. We have to pay him back either by small installments within a certain amount of time or pay in the full amount.

         "If we don’t pay up, he’s going to alert the remaining ‘heroes’ in Cambridge...that is, if they’re still around. They’d kill us since they liked Yorkin a lot. I know they’d especially hurt Whisperer...what with him causing the death to begin with.”

         “How much do you need?”  
         “Why do you ask? Curious?”

         Now, Montgomery...he was a jerk, but when he was explaining the financial situation to him, a part of LarryBoy felt sympathetic towards him and Tech Whisperer. Sure, he was going to prison, but…

         When LarryBoy didn’t give a reason, Montgomery sighed out, “About sixty-two thousand British pounds. I’m not sure how much that would be in American currency.”

         “That’s okay. I’ll ask the bank so I can pay your buddies off.”

         His head snapped up. LarryBoy was about to head out of the bank when he called out, “Wait, you’re really going to do that? How rich are you anyway, love? I know that place you’re staying in isn’t cheap at all…”

         He needed to ask, as much as he was afraid of the possible result. Without turning around to look at him, LarryBoy inquired, “Montgomery, where did Alfred get those bruises on his body from?”

         What came out of Montgomery’s mouth was, “He dropped by the motel I was in. When he left, he fell down the stairs. They were icy that night.”

         How predictable...a lie.

         The yellow and purple-wearing superhero took a deep breath through his nostrils and then released the air. “...I’ll still pay for you and Tech Whisperer to get rid of the mafia guys, but I want you to never bother Alfred ever again.”

         He cocked a brow, staring at LarryBoy’s back. “For what you’re doing for Whisperer and me...that’s something I’m more than willing to do, especially since I’ll be locked up. Anyway, get up there. Don’t forget my partner not only has Alfred, but Bumblyburg is completely in the dark.”

         “...I know.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         This was scary -- the sounds of panicked civilians and various sirens going off was what LarryBoy heard as he quietly scaled the wall. His heart pounded harder. Soon, he was going to find Alfred and confront Tech Whisperer. Thinking about Montgomery’s accomplice made him wonder about something.

         If Whisperer was a baddie, why was he trying to leave hidden messages and then tricking Montgomery by giving false info about where he (LarryBoy) hid?

         Maybe he was still upset with Batsman. Perhaps Tech Whisperer took a liking to _him_. LarryBoy was about to find out, for he finally approached the top of the building.

         He peeped over the edge and then gasped. There was a tall figure, his back towards LarryBoy, which had a weird glowing half circle almost around his form. In the front of -- whom LarryBoy believed to be -- Tech Whisperer, a holographic screen which stretched out like a large television set appeared to be hovering about a few inches higher than him. LarryBoy, with quietness, climbed onto the roof and realized that the half circle had smaller screens and several keyboards which appeared to be more advanced and digital-like…

         ‘ _He looks like he popped out of Star Trek Generations…_ ’ was what LarryBoy immediately thought. ‘ _He even has video camera glasses! I think._ ’

         Wait.

         Was that half circle also some sorta freaky hologram he could touch and interact with? This really _was_ like “Star Trek Generations”! Or “Tron”. To be fair, he hadn’t watched either title. It was a mild assumption he had.

         Anyway…

         Before climbing up here, he had inserted the extra plunger and rope since the previous set was on Montgomery...this exact plunger on his head was the one he used to aim at the earpiece which was indeed “sticking out like a sore thumb” like Montgomery claimed.

         As soon as LarryBoy victoriously whipped the earpiece from his opponent’s ear without harming him, Tech Whisperer spun around, now visor-less, and froze.

         LarryBoy’s shoulders dropped the same time his plunger retracted to his headgear, earpiece in its suction hold. He blinked a few times, wondering if he was seeing things; however, he soon came to the realization that this wasn’t a hallucination.

         “Alfred…”

         The Tech Whisperer--no, Alfred nervously choked out, his voice raising an octave, “L--Larry…please don’t come closer.”

          “Wh--what?” LarryBoy blinked as his brows scrunched together and took a small step towards the shivering Brit. “Alfred, I’m not gonna do anything hurtful to you--”

         “Ah--I don’t see why you _shouldn't_ after all of this, Larry. Please...”  
         “But Alfred--”

          “Montgomery told you about Yorkin,” Alfred was practically screaming with eyes burning his vision, “you know I’ve killed someone prior to moving here! _Please_ , go ahead! Beat me up and toss me into prison…” A loud sob escaped him which was slowly followed by a second and third. “I’ve be _trayed_ you, Larry. I could’ve done something sooner so you didn’t have to get hurt, so that all of this wouldn’t have occurred!”

         LarryBoy honestly had a feeling he and Tech Whisperer were the same, but it was only a “what if” rather than actually believing it to be true. But wait, since Whisperer and Alfred were the same person…

         “You...got in trouble with Montgomery because of me, Alfred?”

         He hung his head as the strange holograms around him blinked slowly, giving his body a glow. “Larry, I...I couldn’t find the courage to treat you like the ones in Cambridge. You didn’t deserve it.”

         LarryBoy bit his lip for a moment and then protested, “B--but Montgomery threw you out of your house after you stood up for yourself! He...” shakily, he breathed the rest of it out, though weak in tone, “beat you up after what happened at the national bank.”

         Alfred was quiet for a few seconds as his eyes glazed to the right of himself; however, he croaked with a hint of a chuckle to accompany it, “That was a motorbike accident, _you silly superhero_. Remember I told you that at the cafe?”

         He tore off his mask. “Montgomery said you fell down the stairs at the motel he was staying in.”

         All of a sudden, his head snapped back to Larry, shouting through a cracking voice and widened, angry eyes, “He didn’t do anything to me! I was driving like a bloody fool on the icy roads and crashed. _That’s it!_ ”

         “That’s a _lie_.”  
         “How would _you_ know?!”

         As scary as it was to admit to this to somebody, Larry knew it would be enough proof to, maybe, let Alfred see he knew where he was coming from. “I accidentally saw you changing into my clothes on the first day you stayed at my place, and I saw the _bruises_ , Alfred.” The pitch of his voice hitched as he explained with flushed cheeks, “They looked _exactly_ like the ones I got back in Minnesota! A _bat_ caused them, not _falling off a bike_!”

         Alfred was taken aback with an inaudible gasp and a painful twist going off within the core of his chest as though there was a hold of his heart. Through a less-than-clear vision, he noticed how his lips trembled whilst his innocent eyes watered up. Oh no, either the bullying was more intense than he had thought or this assault happened from something else. But the fact that Larry was brave to confess such a thing to him was...incredible!

         “Alfred,” he stammered, “Montgomery made you do this, d--didn’t he?” When he saw Alfred tremble harder, clutching at the very long purple, green, and turquoise jacket he donned, Larry knew that his revelation was effective to the point where, perhaps, Alfred would acknowledge what happened a while back.

         “Y--yes...b--but…I didn’t want him to...leave...me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you…!” Before Alfred could say anything else, he finally broke into tears. The hot drops spilling faster and faster down his wind-whipped cheeks as he gave out and landed onto his knees, bawling out of control. He just couldn’t handle this anymore -- he couldn’t! He knew he was embarrassing himself, acting so _undignified_ in front of someone who did so much for him…

          So, Alfred didn’t want Montgomery to leave him after showing unwillingness to harm LarryBoy? Oh...didn’t...didn’t Alfred mention that he hardly had friends as well? To Alfred, Montgomery possibly meant the _world_ to him. After what occurred tonight, Montgomery wanted nothing to do with Alfred…thus, Alfred losing someone he really liked...

         ...but…

         Larry joined him on the ice cold ground and held the Brit against his body. Immediately, Alfred continued to cry, he buried his face atop of Larry’s mask-less head in response to the comforting embrace, something which began to increase in warmth even in the late autumn air.

         “I’m right here, Alfred,” he said as a mean to soothe him. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this. I promise, things will get better.”

         Larry knew it was impossible to fill the broken void where Montgomery used to reside in Alfred’s mind, but he still wanted to do whatever it took for his close friend to recover and carry on.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_December 22nd..._ **

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hello, Bumblyburg! I wanted to send one more message, so this will be the last you’ll hear from me. :-)_

_Although my stay here has been short, I admit that I’ve caused a lot of trouble since then, especially on “The Bumblyburg Blackout of December the Eighth”. I was told of the damage which arose due to my action. I am so sorry for what happened that night. :’-( I know I might not be forgiven now or even anytime in the future, but I will make up for what I have done however I can. The only logical thing I could think of is by...well...giving myself up to the police, which I have. This message was to be sent once I was sentenced, you see. My partner, Batsman, also gave himself up to the law enforcement._

_One last thing...it's in regards to your hero, LarryBoy. Please cherish him, for after encountering him one final time on that fateful night on the eighth, he forgave me, even after all of the things I’ve caused. He is so forgiving, it hurts in such a good way. You, Bumblyburg, have a true superhero._

_So, farewell. Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! :’-) - Signed, The Tech Whisperer._

 

 

         “Again, this message was one which Tech Whisperer conjured _before_ he was sent to prison,” Esther Leek concluded, looking from the news station computer to the camera. “We, at BLN, have gotten confirmation from Bumblyburg Correctional Facility about the authenticity of this farewell message. As of December the twenty-second, Tech Whisperer is in BCF for an undisclosed amount of time.”

         The news report continued on the television as a coffee shop in Seattle prepared to open its doors for the day. Chairs were sat in front of tables, machines began to grind coffee whilst others cooked sandwiches and cookies. As for one newer employee, he took a seat at a table, right in front of where the television hung, coffee in his possession.

         “Well well! If it isn’t my favorite newcomer! I’m surprised you’re here so early, Persimmon!”

         Montgomery looked over his shoulder to see the middle-aged man grinning at him. He shot a smile back. “What can I say? Ever since I got the job, I’ve been feeling energetic enough to wake up earlier than I need to. Maybe it’s the coffee or the environment that does it.”

         Laughing lightly, he said, “Well alright. Just remember that Fridays are the busiest days for here.”

         “Trust me, Boss. I can handle anything after the last job I had!”

 

* * *

 

 

         The snow in Bumblyburg around this time of the year was nothing new, so perhaps that’s why were were a few cars traveling down the streets with proper driving precautions. In fact, there were enough cars to have a bit of traffic.

         Another car soon joined the four cars waiting at a stoplight; however…

         ...this car looked a _wee_ -bit different than the others.

         The two gourds in the convertible beside LarryBoy couldn’t help but stare at the new mode of transportation which the superhero gained. LarryBoy felt a blush creep to his cheeks from being stared at, but thankfully the mask was present to cover his injury-free face. He glanced to them, rolling down the window.

         “Afternoon, gentlemen,” he said in his superhero tone.

         The shorter of the gourds rolled down the driver side window, replying with, “Uh, afternoon. What’s with the car?”

         He beamed immediately at the question. “It’s an early Christmas present I got from my partner.”

         The taller gourd whispered to the driver, “Jimmy, ask him what it’s called.”

         Jimmy raised a brow but nodded anyway, and then he glanced to LarryBoy once more. “My pal Jerry wants to know what model your car is. Mind tellin’?”

         Just before the light turned green, LarryBoy beamed even brighter than before as he answered, “It’s simply the _LarryMobile_.”

 

* * *

 

 

         “Easy, e-e-e-easy…” LarryBoy whispered nervously to himself as he pulled the LarryMobile into the slowly remodeling LarryCave while the secret garage door closed behind him. “Almost there…”

         The car stopped moving. LarryBoy put the car into park, turned off the car, and got out, shaky.

         He took a moment to calm the pounding in his chest, doing his breathing exercise ten times until the superhero whipped off his mask and felt less rattled from driving his awesome car for the first time ever.

         “...I did it…” it was weak sounding, but LarryBoy was indeed proud of himself when he said that. “I finally drove…!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         As soon as he entered into the living room in a fluffy red Christmas sweater, Larry called out, “Honey, I’m home!”

         Alfred emerged from the kitchen, completely dressed in a red and green vest with a black suit jacket while holding a cup of hot chocolate. “Welcome home, _Master_ Larry,” he greeted him with an amused half-smile. “I assume your drive around town went well.”

         “You’d be right with that assumin’! C’mon and sit with me at the couch! I heard there’s gonna be a mini Christmas movie marathon on channel 13 in a few minutes~...”  
         “I will once I grab my hot chocolate. Here’s yours, by the by.”

         “Um, Alfred?”

         Alfred turned around to face the younger man. “Yes?”

         “You don’t have to act like my butler still and call me ‘Master’,” he said, gripping the cup with care. “It was just a cover-up for a while. You can be you!”

         Nodding, Alfred assured him, “Yes, I _could_ stop with the butler charade...but, I feel like I should try doing household work whenever I don’t need to assist you with your LarryBoy duties. I don’t mind this at all! It's rather interesting, to be honest. Besides,” he added, his smile widening, “ _as_ a rich superhero, it wouldn’t hurt having me as _your_ butler. It seems very 'Batman' in nature.”

         He gasped loudly. “You’re right! Your name's even the same as Bruce Wayne's! Awesome idea!”

         "Also," all of a sudden, Alfred’s smile softened while he adjusted his precious monocle as he confessed, “I want to make it up to you. Remember? You could have tossed me into prison, and yet…you let me stay here with you.”

         “You’re a good person, Alfred,” was what Larry said to that. “You deserve a better life instead of being locked up...especially ‘cuz of...y’know.”

         He had to quickly blink away the tears forming and hide the touched mood with a warm laugh. “Oh, Master Larry…! Butler’s aren’t supposed to cry, silly!”

         It was now Larry’s smile’s turn to lessen the brightness, settling into a gentle one. “Say, Alfred?”

         “Hm?”  
         “Look up.”

         He blinked, but when he followed Larry’s suggestion by lifting his head to the kitchen entrance doorway, he gasped, a bright red spreading across his healed face. “Master Larry, why is there a mistletoe hanging over us?”

         Larry shrugged, a goofy grin now present. “Jus’ for fun.”

         “...I’ll...go get my hot chocolate. I’ll be out in a minute.” He retreated further into the kitchen, huffing from embarrassment.

         But to Larry...this was Alfred starting to open a whole lot more ever since the major blackout. It made him so happy to know that the Brit appeared to be feeling more at home, more happy about things, and less hesitant about doing things outside of the house. Once again, Larry’s grin went away and dropped into a sincerely glad kind.

         Ever since Alfred permanently moved in with him, Larry felt himself feeling happier as well, for he knew somebody would be here to welcome him home. He had Alfred, and Alfred had him. They felt so...close to each other, and both parties loved it.

         All in all...this was going to be the start of something wonderful for Larry, Alfred...and LarryBoy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end!
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! I really had a nice time writing this! 
> 
> I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Chanukah, Happy Holiday, and a Happy New Year! :'B - Patches
> 
> (P.S. When referring to Montgomery from this fic, you can call him TW Montgomery, since "off-stage", he's definitely not like this. Regular Montgomery's a bit shy, but he's also strange. Archibald and Larry are his close buddies. Bye! :B)


End file.
